An Indian water
carrier had two large jars, suspended at both ends of a piece of wood which fit snugly into the shape of
his shoulders. One of these jars had a crack and, whereas the other jar retained absolutely all its water from the spring all the way to the master''s house, the other jar lost almost half of its precious cargo on the way. This went on for 2 years, during which time, every day, the water
carrier never delivered more than a jar and a half of water on any of his excursions. Certainly, the perfect jar was very proud of itself because it could fulfill its function from beginning to end without fail. But the damaged jar was ashamed of its imperfection and was depressed because it could only achieve half of its potential. After 2 years of what it considered to be permanent failure, just when the water carrier was filling it from the spring, the broken jar spoke to the water carrier. "I feel guilty and I beg you to forgive me". "Why?", asked the water carrier, "What have you to feel guilty about?" The broken jar replied, "I''ve only ever managed to carry half of my load to your master for the last 2 years because of the crack which allows the water to escape. Because of my shortcomings, you do your best, but in the end you only deliver half of the water. You never manage to get what you deserve for all your efforts." The water carrier was moved by this confession, and, full of compassion, replied, "Whilst we are on our way back to the master''s house, I want you to look at the wonderful
flowers at the side of the road." As they climbed their way up the hill, the old jar saw the magnificent flowers bathed in sunlight along the edge of road, and it filled him with joy. But at the end of the journey, he felt bad again because he had spilled half of his water. The water carrier said to the jar, "Did you not notice that the beautiful flowers only grew on YOUR side of the road and hardly any on the side of the perfect jar? That''s because I have always known that you leaked and I didn''t mind. I planted some flower seeds on your side of the road, and, every day, you water them as you pass along the way. For 2 years, thanks to you, I have been able to pick wonderful flowers which have adorned the master''s table. Without you, I would never have been able to find such fresh and elegant flowers." The moral of the story: We all have cracks, blemishes, faults. We are all broken jars. Some of us are suffer from old age, others are not that clever, some are too tall, too fat or too thin, some are bald, others are of small stature, but these are cracks, the faults we have which make our lives interesting and exciting.http://blogs.nouvelobs.com/espace_perso.php