Disclaimer: I do not own but wish I did.
Once upon a time, there lived a lonely girl, who had a big dream. She was poor, yet she never allowed herself to become burdened. For a living, she sold flowers and created pottery selling it on the market streets. The profits were donated toward her sickly younger brother, who had a weak body. With every coin presented, she would use the majority of it to tend to medicine while a small portion heads toward bills and living expenses. She would work day and night to normally waking before the sun rises and coming home, exhausted, hours after the sun dips into the hazy horizon.
One day, the young girl received a handsome amount of coins for a piece of pottery she created last week. The pattern and shape was what caught the benevolent entrepreneur's eye. He was cloaked in a heavy cape with dirt masking his entire image. A worn hat dipped over an eye as he leaned down to pick up the unusual pottery. His body looked near to death that the girl panicked in fear for he might collapse from fatigue. But, the man's hands held a certain degree of strength, easing the girl's fears.
"Madam, are you the one who created this masterpiece?" His voice held a thick accent that the girl had to think a bit to realize he was directing a question toward her.
"Yes, sir, I make all my wares. Would you like the purchase that pottery?" Her voice was confident and strong from years of self-sufficiency and independence. The man marveled at the pottery turning it in his hands as he examined it.
"Do you make your own material by hand?" His eyes never once leaving the plain pottery, his voice filled with awe as if he held a priceless antique. Watching the man warily, the girl wondered if he was ….short of …..something. The pottery was nothing to become enthralled with but simple clay pottery she would create while painting everyday pictures or patterns to catch the customer's eyes. Although, she was flattered out of all the pottery, he chose this to be impressed with since she spent extra time on the piece.
"Yes, sir." She licked her lips at the possible sale. 'Should I ask for more than required. He might be willing to pay for it more than a reasonable price.'
"It's beautiful craftsmanship. I would very much like to buy this grandeur artistic pottery." His eyes, which were once dull and lack of life, filled with an indescribable expression. The eyes were glassy with a sheet of tears. The girl was shocked by the reaction to her work. It was only a simple pottery she spent some extra care on. In fact, she was hesitant to sell it since she used the very best material she could muster.
Worried, the girl felt a need to set him straight. Afterall, she could not allow him to be blinded by something that was not there. "Sir, it's only a modest pottery I created using some special care. It is nothing like what you believe it to be." Her voice lost some of it's confidence and a strange humble tone filled in the blanks.
The man's eyes finally widened as if realizing the girl actually existed. With a painful expression, he tore his eyes away from the pottery to set them upon the girl. "Madam, I think it may be you, who cannot see the grandeur of this piece. For someone who creates her own wares, I would have thought you would hold more confidence in your skills. Whether you believe me or not about the quality and beauty of this pottery,' He held the pottery toward her in hopes for her to see the true masterpiece, he continued, "is completely up to you. But, this art is well above the wares of any pottery I have ever seen. Such quality and meaning should never be treated with anything less than extreme pride."
The girl's eyes widen in surprise. 'Surely this man didn't believe this pottery was as great as he claimed. In fact, it wasn't anything close to the other pottery in the market street.' Her creations were usually bought for targets, chamber pots, and to hold flowers. Nothing quite as exquisite as this man was making it out to be. A dark shadow crossed her eyes in realization. He was teasing her in the cruelest of manners. By using such gifted words, he was being callous. With an air of annoyance, she snatched the pottery from his hands and laid it upon her lap.
"Sir, if you are done, I would greatly appreciate if you would move on. It's not polite nor proper to insult someone's wares just because they are trying to make ends meet!" Tears stung her eyes as she hugged the pottery close to her bosom. The man watched her silently for a few seconds.
"Madam, I meant no harm or malice toward you with my words but the honest truth of what I see. Your pottery is beautiful. The most beautiful I have ever seen." Tears started to trickle down his weathered cheeks. The girl was once again shocked.
'What was this man playing at?' She couldn't figure out what his true intentions were. "Sir, my pottery is ordinary and plain at best. There are better pottery around the market streets if you're looking for something closer to your taste." She swallowed in nervousness at the twin streams falling down his face.
"Madam, there is no better pottery than the one I see before me. I have traveled the world for years in hopes to find the perfect pottery. Now, I have discovered it in the least likely places. I suppose this is what people would label as, 'The Diamond in the Rough'. I hold but the highest sincerity when I praise your work for that pottery."
"Why would you suddenly come to a place like this for the perfect pottery?" Her fingers grip the pottery tightly like a lifeline. She didn't understand her own actions; her body acted instinctively.
"I have heard about a certain pottery maker, whose creations could make tears fall from the eyes of even the hardest of hearts."
"Then you are in the wrong booth for my pottery has never caused anyone to shed tears."
"You are wrong, Madam, for every person I talked to has shed tears of joy and relief when they tell me about this particular booth. I would greatly appreciate it if you would allow me the honor of purchasing such a rare piece."
Unsure of herself, the girl slowly pried her fingers away from the pottery and held it out to the man. Before she could even voice a price, a heavy bag full of coins was handed to her. The tears of the man never faded but lessoned. "Thank you, Madam, for granting me such a wonderful gift. You have fulfilled a dream I held for so long. A dream I was fearing would never come to fruition. You have my utmost graditude."
The girl looked at the heavy bag being held by both her hands simply because the weight was too much. "Sir, this is more than enough to pay for the pottery. I only require a few coins for the sale." Her honorable side won out in the end as she grabbed the required coins and handed the bag back, but the man held up his hands in refusal.
"Madam, that bag of coins is only but a small payment for what you have given me. Please take what ludicrious amount I could offer in exchange for such a dream come true."
"Sir, you're wrong, it is only but a simple pottery I created with spare time." She tried to explain but the man wouldn't listen to her.
"But, I can grant you a wish. What pray-tell would you like? What is your greatest dream?"
The girl was dumbfounded. 'What is he talking about? My greatest dream?' Her mind floated to the one dream that has constantly haunted her thoughts since she was but a wee child. A gentle smile fell upon his lips as if he read her mind.
"I see." The tears were almost nonexistent while the smile softened his features to an almost handsome expression. "I can easily tell what dream you hold most dearest in your heart by this pottery you created by your own hands. It shows off your true heart during that moment of raw emotion you poured into the pottery. Thank you, Madam, I know you will be able to grasp your dream with both hands molding it into the masterpiece you have always created with your wares. I bid my leave." He slightly bowed to her and departed.
The girl sat in utter confusion. She was completely in the dark about everything that had transpired within the last five minutes. At the end of the day, she packed up everything and readied the trip for home. She briefly made a pitstop for the medicinal booth to purchase a much stronger remedy and some fruit before heading home.
After taking care of her sickly brother and tucking him in for the night, she stepped outside of their small hut to gaze up at the night sky. 'My greatest dream?' The thoughts wandered toward her brother getting better, but she knew that wasn't her greatest dream. For the first time in years, she allowed her thoughts to drift within the passage of time to the one moment she held her greatest dream in her arms.
The dream she painted upon the pottery the man bought today. The shape of the dream with the authentic texture; she felt its core under her fingers. She planted a bit of that dream within the pottery to strengthen its material and to keep it more firm. Closed eyes, she felt the wind tickle her face as soft strands of hair brushed her face. 'Her dream from so many years ago now apart of someone else's dream. A part remained deeply buried within her heart.
The wind was nice. Today was different yet soothing. Her greatest dream was passed on to another. A never ending dream that will never die. She dug into her pocket to feel the thin delicate material. The last remaining memories. Pulling her hand out, she gazed down to find two long wire-like strings curled in balls. It was part of the heart of her dream. A sacrificial destiny that torn the two apart and left one with memories best left buried while the other a constant reminder of a memory kept only for the purpose of not departing. A brief smile lit her face as the moon's beams bathed her features.
'My greatest dream?' She held up the strings toward the moon allowing the wind to take hold of them. They drifted toward a tiny stream. Floating into oblivion. After all, dreams were but a dream that you will have to one day wake up from.
The End
Shizuku turned away from her work. Leaning back against the desk, she gently massaged her eyes. 'Finally, I have finished it.' It was a short story that touched deeply into something much more serious and personal. She learned from long ago about your dearest dreams and to never let go of it. It held a lot of personal information hidden behind clever words. This was a story to be signed under a different name.
The woman of eighty glanced over to the corner of the room where a well crafted violin sat. It's shine never diminishing as it sat proudly. 'Isn't that right, Seiji? Never let go of your dearest dreams no matter the cost.' She slowly stood up and carefully walked to her chair. The violin sitting next to it.
She picked up the musical instrument and lightly strummed her fingers across the taunt strings producing a sound. "It was a lesson hard to learn, yet something we both taught each other constantly when times because tough. I hope my story would be able to transpire through time and carry in the hearts of everyone to never let go and stop. For everything has a purpose whether a fading dream or one about to bloom. A lesson never to be forgotten."
She patted the glossy wood with her aging hands before gently placing it in it's place. Right beside her, she would never be lonely. After all, Seiji placed his entire heart into this dream of his so she was not to be alone. "We shall always be together." She rocked herself until fatigued rained down upon her.
As time passed, she too passed on. Her last legacy was printed and published becoming a top selling item. In her will, she requested for the original manuscript and the violin be placed into a museum side by side. Stories will be told about the two odd items next to one another. The truth becoming less while the tall tales increase until the last bit of truth is forgotten. Many years pass and the violin and manuscript remain encased in glass side by side with the title bestowed upon them as, "The Greatest Dream".
Author's notes: Well, I hope you enjoyed and please by all means drop a comment on your way out.
