Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Cup and Saucer (08/28/14)
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TITLE: Little Susan | Previous Challenge Entry
By Linda Gage
09/04/14 -
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“Daddy can I use those for my tea party?” Five-year-old Susan asked of the very first pieces he had created from his new pottery wheel.
“Sure, honey. When it’s finished.”
“But I want to play noooow, pleeeease.” That innocent whine didn’t get to him. The cup and saucer needed to be fired in the kiln and painted. A ride to the park would divert her attention.
Today he glared at that kiln sitting in the corner, untouched for 30 years. That first turn took him to woodworking then oil painting and others. He never did anything for very long, though he was very good at all of them.
Some days he would be in that shop from sun-up to sun-down working on his latest and greatest. Today was the end because the pain was taking over. These days it was even difficult to pick up a small paint brush. He squeezed the pill bottle.
All his efforts, passion, ability, talent staring at him from the exact place they were planted after completion, except that one painting.
Once he caught his wife poking around. He knew she was there to see what she might sell or worse give away. He caught her, literally yellow-handed. ‘Sunflower Progression’ was not completely dry and she smudged the edges.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He controlled his anger.
“Nothing dear, just admiring.” She couldn’t resist a close up look because sunflowers were her favorite. Soon she learned not to touch or comment on specific projects, but it didn’t stop her from encouraging him to share his gift.
As he surveyed he wondered, “Wasn’t there supposed to be some satisfaction in a lifetime of work?”
Anger welled up, “Why did I waste all my time making this?” He tightly clamped the pill bottle.
The paintings, statues, carvings were all mocking him. Rage overtook him and he grabbed a dusty wooden bat. He swung it recklessly, emptying the shelves. He threw wood carvings at paintings, statues at music boxes. Shrapnel toppled over him. He looked at pills then turned to a small glass case and raised the bat when the shop door swung open.
“Grandpa, what happened?” Susan innocently asked.
Her eyes focused on that glass case. “WOW, can I use that for my tea party?”
She was ruining his plan.
“Pleease Grandpa!” that familiar whine struck a chord. This was Little Susan who had been named after the aunt she never met. Big Susan, his daughter, long gone after that terrible accident happened on the exact day that he felt he found his niche in life.
“OH Grandpa. Look it’s just right for my dolly!” Holding a smiley plastic doll.
She was chatting; his mind racing.
Was this destruction a picture of his life? In his hand, the broken bat he had made for Little Susan’s daddy. A crushed angel created for neighbor Mrs. Johnson when her husband died. And ‘Sunflower Progression’ painted after his wife described watching her sunflowers grow.
With all his might he wanted to yell, “Get OUT!”
Something stopped him.
Big Susan knew that the cup and saucer had a purpose, his son asked for a special bat for baseball, his wife encouraged him to share his talents.
“Granndpaa, we’re waiting.” The sweet voice interjected.
Big Susan was patient too. He had placed the cup and saucer in the kiln and promised that she could have a tea party later. But that promise was ripped from their lives after the accident. She was gone. He was sentenced to life in this prison called a wheelchair.
“You okay, gramps?” Little Susan’s voice penetrated his heart.
If all these things, all his work did have a purpose, just maybe his life did too. Was it too late? Tears welled up. He dropped the bat, reached into the glass case and freed the cup and saucer.
“Here, sweetheart. I made this for your aunt Susan. Now it’s yours. Go have that tea party. Someday I will tell you all about her.”
She happily skipped away. For the first time ever he felt freedom. He ignored the bottle and picked up a paint brush.
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Well done, great message at the end.
God bless~