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Friday, 5 November 1971

The Broken Saucer

STUDENT PRESS GROUP (SERIES I)
The Broken Saucer

November 5, 1971

It happened one late summer evening; after having dinner, I volunteered to do the wash-up. So, I put on the apron and told my brother to have all the saucers put into the basin. Then humming my familiar tone, I entered the warm kitchen. To me, the wash-up was not my first trial and it was nothing extraordinary but daily routine. Everything was as usual; basin, tap, water, detergent, foam and my younger brother that stood beside me to help dry the dishes.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, the dish I was washing broke into two pieces. What ill-luck! Surely I would be blamed.
When I intended to throw them away, I caught sight of a trace of blood banging on the sharp, broken edge. I was startled to find that my fourth finger was hurt and blood was streaming out via the wound. It’s only after a while that I could feel the piercing pain and let go the broken pieces. I stood still, staring at the debris that caught my dropping blood. For a while, everything vanished from my sight except my blood and the broken pieces. It was so inspiring …

“Hey, you’re bleeding!”
“Bleeding? Oh yes, bleeding, bleeding …” I murmurred.
I was wakened up by my brother who was aware of what had happened. Then, he shouted, “Mother, Alex hurts himself!”
“Yes? What’s wrong? … Oh! Are you all right? It’s not painful, is it? Don’t worry, son!”
“Mother, why are you so considerate? Why not scold me? Can you see, I broke the plate.”
“Come on, isn’t my son more important than these fallen pieces? Get the bandage, John …”

That night, I could hardly close my eyes. Whenever I closed them, I saw my blood on the debris, my blood, my blood, my …
“This is my blood of the …
“Isn’t my son more imp …
“Isn’t my s…
“This is …
These words never died away in my ears, never, never even for a moment.

The next day, in the school chapel, I prayed hard, hoping to solve this puzzle. Suddenly, an idea that enlightened the whole matter flashed across my mind. “Yes, Lord of all hosts, why are you so generous? Is not your son more important than these fallen creatures? Why are you so generous? Why?”

… Is not my Son more importnt than you fallen man? What makes you so great? You can soar aloft to the air and dive deep into the fathoms. You can build as many ‘Babels’ higher than ever as you like. You can remove one’s heart and plant it to another man’s body. You can now travel faster than sound. But … Why couldn’t your blood bring together these broken pieces?
See my Son, he never soared aloft and never dived deep. Never had he put a stone upon another, nor had he ever transplanted any heart. But …
Thanks to the Blood of my Beloved one, so that you can become acceptable before me. Man, what makes you so proud! …

Yes, thanks to His blood and after all, the broken saucer. However, IT is something more than a broken saucer, it’s an inspiration.

by Alex Kwok
(CHECSS)


Picture Credit: stock.adobe.com

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