AHandfulofClay
亨利·范·戴克/HenryVanDyke
Therewasahandfulofclayinthebankofariver.Itwasonlycommonclay,coarseandheavy;butithadhighthoughtsofitsownvalue,andwonderfuldreamsofthegreatplacewhichitwastof?illintheworldwhenthetimecameforitsvirtuestobediscovered.
Overhead,inthespringsunshine,thetreeswhisperedtogetheroftheglorywhichdescendeduponthemwhenthedelicateblossomsandleavesbegantoexpand,andtheforestglowedthefair,clearcolors,asifthedustofthousandsofrubiesandemeraldswerehanging,insoftclouds,abovetheearth.
Thef?lowers,surprisedwiththejoyofbeauty,benttheirheadstooneanother,asthewindcaressedthem,andsaid,「Sisters,howlovelyyouhavebecome.Youmakethedaybright.」
Theriver,gladofnewstrengthandrejoicingintheunisonofallitswaters,murmuredtotheshoresinmusic,tellingofitsreleasefromicyfetters,itsswiftf?lightfromthesnow-cladmountains,andthemightyworktowhichitwashurryingthewheelsofmanymillstobeturned,andgreatshipstobef?loatedtothesea.
Waitingblindlyinitsbed,theclaycomforteditselfwithloftyhopes.「Mytimewillcome,」itsaid.「Iwasnotmadetobehiddenforever.Gloryandbeautyandhonorarecomingtomeindueseason.」
Onedaytheclayfeltitselftakenfromtheplacewhereithadwaitedsolong.Af?latbladeofironpassedbeneathit,andliftedit,andtosseditintoacartwithotherlumpsofclay,anditwascarriedfaraway,asitseemed,overaroughandstonyroad.Butitwasnotafraid,nordiscouraged,foritsaidtoitself:「Thisisnecessary.Thepathtogloryisalwaysrugged.NowIamonmywaytoplayagreatpartintheworld.」
Butthehardjourneywasnothing,comparedwiththetribulationanddistressthatcameafterit.Theclaywasputintoatroughandmixedandbeatenandstirredandtrampled.Itseemedalmostunbearable.Buttherewasconsolationinthethoughtthatsomethingveryf?ineandnoblewascertainlycomingoutofallthistrouble.Theclayfeltsurethat,ifitcouldonlywaitlongenough,awonderfulrewardwasinstoreforit.
Thenitwasputuponaswiftlyturningwheel,andwhirledarounduntilitseemedasifitmustf?lyintoathousandpieces.Astrangepowerpresseditandmouldedit,asitrevolved,andthroughallthedizzinessandpainitfeltthatitwastakinganewform.
Thenanunknownhandputitintoanoven,andf?ireswerekindledaboutit,f?ierceandpenetrating,hotterthanalltheheatsofsummerthathadeverbroodeduponthebankoftheriver.Butthroughall,theclayhelditselftogetherandendureditstrials,intheconf?idenceofagreatfuture.「Surely,」itthought,「Iamintendedforsomethingverysplendid,sincesuchpainsaretakenwithme.PerhapsIamfashionedfortheornamentofatemple,orapreciousvaseforthetableofaking.」
Atlastthebakingwasf?inished.Theclaywastakenfromthefurnaceandsetdownuponaboard,inthecoolair,underthebluesky.Thetribulationwaspassed.Therewardwasathand.
Closebesidetheboardtherewasapoolofwater,notverydeep,norveryclear,butcalmenoughtoref?lect,withimpartialtruth,everyimagethatfeltuponit.Thereforthef?irsttime,asitwasliftedfromtheboard,theclaysawitsnewshape,therewardofallitspatienceandpain,theconsummationofitshopes—acommonf?lower-pot,straightandstiff,redandugly.Andthenitfeltthatitwasnotdestinedforaking』shouse,norforapalaceofart,becauseitwasmadewithoutgloryorbeautyorhonor;anditmurmuredagainsttheunknownmaker,saying,「Whyhastthoumademethus?」
Manydaysitpassedinsullendiscontent.Thenitwasf?illedwithearth,andsomething—itknewnotwhat—butsomethingroughandbrownanddead-looking,wasthrustintothemiddleoftheearthandcoveredover.Theclayrebelledatthisnewdisgrace.「Thisistheworstofallthathashappenedtome,tobef?illedwithdirtandrubbish.SurelyIamafailure.」