Mama's Ming Vase

Pierre was only 13 years old when his mama taught him a lesson he has never forgotten…
I was thirteen, good-looking, a magazine model, and somewhat confident in my appeal to girls – perhaps more than somewhat confident… I was arrogant and not always kind. My mama, watching me grow from a boy to a man knew she needed to teach me a lesson.
I lived in a beautiful home, full of exquisite art and antiques. Mama's Ming Vase held a special place in our art collection. I knew it had been produced during the Ming Dynasty (1368 – 1644) in China. I knew it was a highly prized and valuable piece. I knew she loved it. I also knew I was always to be very careful not to break it.
The event that stands out in my memory began with a conversation in the kitchen. "Pierre," my mama said, "How you treat your mother is how you will treat your wife." I was listening, and I've never forgotten her words, but evidently she wasn't sure her thirteen year old son had gotten the message. She gazed at me for a few moments, and then turned and walked from the kitchen.
When she reappeared she was holding her treasured Ming vase. Without saying a word, she held it up, fixed me with her gaze, and then dropped it.
I watched, stunned and speechless, as her precious vase shattered on the floor around me. "Mama!" I finally managed to gasp.
"Now, Pierre," she said calmly and quietly, "I want you to pick all the pieces up. I'm going to get some glue."
I was down on my knees instantly, still reeling from watching the priceless vase fall from her hands – knowing I would never forget the sight of it breaking all around me – pieces of clay dug from the banks of Chinese rivers over 600 hundred years ago. What could have possibly possessed my elegant mother to do such a thing?
Once I had gathered up every shard of glossy sided clay, I laid them on the table. They shimmered in the kitchen, the light playing off the beautiful colors that had minutes before been part of an exquisite piece of art. I stared at them and then looked at my mother – waiting for an explanation.
Mama held up the glue and then handed it to me. "Now, I want you to glue the vase back together." I stared at her, and then wordlessly began to do as she asked; trying to put together the puzzle of pieces to resemble what had once been.
She watched my futile attempts for a while and then said, "Pierre, even if you were to successfully put this vase back together again, there will always be cracks. It will never be as it was before. What was once a rare, beautiful piece of art becomes a piece of worthless clay."
She stopped to let those words sink in. I was still grasping to understand why she had done it. "Once it is all back together," she continued, " were you to drop it again, there would be even more cracks if you tried to glue it again." She paused for a long moment, allowing me to imagine just what the vase would become if I continued to break it.
"Son, the time would come that even though you were to continue to glue it together, pieces would be lost, the cracks would become jagged edges, and it would cease to resemble a vase."
Knowing I was still stunned by what had happened, she drove her point home. "Son, relationships are like that. Every time you speak unkind words or do unkind things, irreparable harm is done. You can never take words back once they are spoken. You can never undo hurt once it has been inflicted. What was once a beautiful treasure has been broken. Try as you might, you can never recreate exactly what was there before. It will always have cracks. If you continue to inflict hurt on the one you love, the day will come when, just like this Ming vase, it will no longer resemble what it was created to be, and you will lose your love."
Silence filled the kitchen as my brain and heart absorbed her wisdom. "Son, never inflict pain. Be careful of the words that come from your mouth – knowing they can never be reclaimed. Treasure your love and your relationships. They are the only things of real value you will ever own." She turned to leave and then repeated what had started the conversation; "Pierre, please remember that how you treat your mother is how you will treat your wife."
My mama quietly picked up the pieces of the Ming vase, kissed me on the forehead, and left me to my thoughts.
The lessons she taught that day changed my attitude immediately and have stayed with me for 45 years. Relationships are truly the only things that hold real value. I must treasure and protect them just as I would a valuable piece of fine art.

Rex

P.S. And just so you'll know this wise woman (Pierre's mother- who was really his grandmother), Berthe Charbonneau, in the early 50's was the Founder of the Cancer Society as we know it today - The Canadian & American Cancer Society. And now you know.... the Rest of the Story... :)

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