There was not a place she would not go without it! Every day, off she went! Skipping here and there, across plains and fields, over mountains and valleys, she clutched it tightly on all her journeys. She would not let it get rusty. It was everything to her.
Her watering-can, that is.
Over hills and mountains she went, searching for the brightest and prettiest blooms, and the most promising shoots to water. Once, she found at a wet, secret spot of a valley, the most beautiful budding shoot she had ever seen. It was green, gleaming, and glowing in the weak sunlight. Its leaves were shaped like kites, and when she watered it, oh how it sang!
So she named her little plant Kitesong.
Out of the valley of darkness, it spurted and fanned out into a huge, spreading tree, full of sweet fruit. Though huge, its boughs were low and thick, so the little children could climb up to taste of its goodness. What was even more amazing, was that the bigger it grew, the more sunlight it brought to the valley, the more fragrant its fruits became, and the sweeter the songs it sang.
Wherever she went, people would exclaim, "Wow, look at her go with her watering-can!"
" What a beautiful watering-can!"
"Did you see the beautiful tree that grew because of her watering-can! Amazing!"
And every time someone praised her watering-can, she would clutch it a little tighter, polish it for a little longer, and run even faster and try even harder to find the prettiest flowers and greenest shrubs to water. She used to stop frequently for any unlovely, thirsty weeds or despondent shrubs- but not any more. She had no time to lose! The next Big Thing was waiting for her!
The watering-can became so precious to her that even while she slept, she held it tightly to her breast.
One day, there was a huge drought. The drought was so bad and the heat was so strong that all the flowerbuds and young shoots withered. She ran even faster, and searched even harder- but not a pretty bloom or promising bud was found. Clutching her watering-can, she scoured the fields and plains far and wide, but to no avail.
Wherever she went now, people would whisper, " I haven't seen her watering anything promising lately, has she?"
" Her watering-can doesn't look so shiny anymore, does it?"
" Was it really her who watered that big beautiful tree?"
Over the plains and over the fields, she ran and ran and ran, but to no avail. There was not a single bud in the blast of the heat. There was only grass, fields and fields of green, green grass.
All alone in a big field, far from the whispering world, she held her watering-can in her right hand, slumped slightly forward in exhaustion, and started to cry.
Have we all been searching too hard for that one bud? Have we allowed ourselves to become preoccupied with what people thought of our past achievements, and allowed ourselves to become beaten with exhaustion at trying to meet their expectations.
When in fact, we don't always have to be searching for the Next Big Thing. Dreams keep us anchored, focused and alive, but clasping desperately to one dream to the next could very well exhaust you, especially since seasons come and seasons go- the next harvest will come another time, after winter and summer have passed, too.
Have we sometimes become so preoccupied with the scale of what we could do, that we neglect the little things we should do. There is grass all around us for us to tend, thirsting for a single drop of water, but why do we hoard the precious liquid in our watering-cans, depriving them of life?
It just got me thinking the other day- do we only go for the Big Things and miss the little ones, which are just as, if not more important, because of how they shape our character. After all, it takes far more energy to bend down in backbreaking agony to tend to each blade of grass, than to watch over a single shoot. Are we often more tempted to do what is glorious and important in the eyes of men? Wouldn't you prefer a glamorous title and important, impact-making job in an organising committee, rather than the menial task of unpacking chairs and cleaning the floors? Do you find yourself talking excitedly, putting your best foot forward in front of an Important person, and then brushing aside, or bristling with irritation at someone of lower stature, those with lesser abilities, intellectual challenges, slower in thought and speech.
I know I have.
There is green green grass all around us, waiting for us to tend. We don't need to keep running to find the Next Big Thing, don't necessarily need to only go overseas to help the poor, don't need to always wear ties and suits and sit in big conference rooms to change the world. Sure, we could, but do we dream about the sometimes unreachable, and do so at the expense of ignoring the little things around us, within our reach- the poor in your neighbourhood, the humble community service club in our vicinity.
I had a vision today, of myself with a watering-can, all alone in a huge, huge field, with nary a flower in sight but filled with thousands of grass blades I was blinded to before. Sometimes, life becomes boring because we only want what's glamourous, and impactful, and eye-catching. But the little things count, too.
For often, it is in tending to the little things that help prepare us for the Bigger Things ahead.
Faithfulness in the Littlelest of things.
That's what counts.
"All alone in a big field, far from the whispering world, she held her watering-can in her right hand,
slumped slightly forward in exhaustion, and started to cry."
Photo by Xi
Concept and modelling by Wai Jia
"Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much..."
-Luke 16:10a
"Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge with many things. Come and share in your master's happiness!"
- Matthew 25:21
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