The Chosen Cup - A Short Christmas Story
The snow flurries started as the sun began to set over 18th Century Londontown. Horses and carts clattered across the cobblestones as holiday shoppers moved from store to store to finish up their Christmas shopping before the night closed in.
Despite the chill and wind, Henry went from store to store, looking in the store windows to see if he could find a unique gift for his wife. Store after store did not pique his interest. After continued frustration, he turned the corner onto a quieter street and before him was an old shabby-looking shop. The dusty shop window displayed a variety of odds and ends, curiosities abounding. As he opened the door a bell rang proclaiming his entrance. A few people mulled about looking on shelves and tables, under tables, and the stacks and stacks of objects everywhere. He placed his hat and coat on a rack and started his exploration.
Henry was overwhelmed with the amount of clutter strewn about the shop. Sighing, he said under his breath, “I’ll never find what I’m looking for.” Frustrated, yet excited, he moved about the shop, moving items, looking high and low on shelves, scouring under tables until he looked across the room and then he saw it. For decades now, he has been looking for a precious china cup to give to his wife, a collector of fine and exotic china. While he did not know specifics of the cup, he knew this would be a great gift for his wife. He took it off the shelf to examine. Holding it in his hands looking over the cup, he thought to himself, “This is the perfect Christmas gift. She will be blessed to have it among her collection.”
With no shopkeeper about, he left the china cup on the shelf to inquire about the cup in hopes of purchasing it. He saw a sign stating “More Goods This Way” with an arrow pointing up the stairs to the second floor. He was amazed to find that the upstairs was just as crammed with objects as the first floor was. A candle on a desk lit the shopkeeper's face. “Hello?” said Henry. “I’d like to inquire about that china cup on the shelf downstairs.”
“Oh the china cup.” replied the shopkeeper who finished writing on a pad of paper. As he put his pen back in the inkwell, he looked off sentimentally in the distance for a moment before replying further. “Yes, the china cup is for sale. That china cup has been in my family for several generations. While the cup has stayed with me, my family has since journeyed afar. I am reluctantly selling it, but I know it’s time for this storied cup to find a new home.”
Henry told him that his wife was a collector of exceptionally fine porcelain china from distant lands and was looking for a specific type of cup. She had been looking for years and he thought this might be the one she wanted. Her collection grew at great expense. Henry admitted he knew nothing about china, nor did he really care about having another piece of china on display, but he dearly loved his wife and knew her heart would be delighted having this exotic cup in her collection.
“Do you know its history?”, the shopkeeper asked Henry. “No”, replied Henry, “Will you tell me?”
“This china cup was from the far Orient, made several centuries ago for a great emperor. Hundreds of pieces were made to not only display the passion the emperor had for precious objects but to display his power and vast wealth. The emperor would hold lavish dinners and receptions using the china set as a way of impressing his officials and visiting dignitaries.
Over the years of the emperor's rule, there were rumors of invasions in distant parts of the empire, but the emperor remained concerned about other things. During one of the lavish dinners, the invaders came, not just destroying the capital city, but the entire empire. They stormed the palace, killed all within, and ransacked all the precious and priceless objects.
In the aftermath all hope was lost in the empire. The entire empire was now a burnt mess left to the annals of history. A few survivors of the invasion entered the palace compound collecting what they could to build a new life under a new regime, including this one precious china cup.
Eventually the cup was sold off to a visiting European trader. My family acquired the cup on one of their travels to the continent. The story was told to my ancestors and passed from generation to generation until I placed it on that shelf for sale. It was such a precious object that my grandmother would tell the story each Christmas of how the cup came to the family, embellishing the rebellion and acquisition.
We all knew how precious this object was. It sat in a prominent place in our house until the family split and moved out of London.
You will have the cup and the story to share with your family this Christmas, sir.
“I am elated to purchase it, and my wife will be elated to have it; as well as to pass on this story of the cup and your family’s passion for its preservation” said Henry. A smile was on them both knowing the precious object would have a new life in a new home.
As the men talked and finished up their conversation upstairs, they heard a family enter the shop. They were rather loud and rambunctious, even the shopkeeper and Henry could hear them rustle about. The two paid no attention and continued talking. They heard an argument among the children developing and suddenly, a shove, a crash, and a shatter. Henry and the shopkeeper looked at each other in stark concern and curiosity.
Grumbling loudly, the shopkeeper rushed downstairs fearing what might have broken. As he rushed down the stairs, the family quickly left the shop. Henry followed him, seeing the broken-hearted face of the shopkeeper. He then looked down at the floor to see the precious cup in pieces. The cup and the story were now shattered. The pile was hardly recognizable as anything meaningful except something for the trash heap.
Before the shopkeeper laid dear family memories, stories shared each holiday about the cup. Tears came to his eyes. Yes, he was willing to part with it, but now it was absolutely worthless. The cup's life and legacy were completely gone.
Henry came up, put a hand on the man’s shoulder. He asked where the broom and dustpan were and the shopkeeper pointed toward the other side of the shop. Henry returned and swept up the pieces. The shopkeeper was still in disbelief as to what had happened.
“I’d still like to buy the cup if I may.”, said Henry.
“No, no, I couldn’t have you do that. You may just take those pieces and go. What was precious is now anything but.”
Henry put the porcelain pieces in his handkerchief and went home. Despite the destruction, Henry knew the story was just about to begin. He recalled a process in the Orient where gold was infused into the broken china pieces to restore and strengthen it. Henry found a book in his library describing the process.
Henry went to his workshop behind the house and worked tirelessly day and night to lovingly piece together the cup with gold knowing Christmas morning was quickly approaching. He got up early Christmas morning to wrap the gift.
There were many gifts for the family this Christmas and at the end of the morning all were enjoying their new items. Henry called for the kids to quiet and settle down for a brief moment. Henry went to the cabinet in the back of the room, and as the cabinet door creaked, he pulled out a small box. “There is one last gift this Christmas! Mother here you go!” She smiled as the gift passed into her hands. Gently she undid the ribbon and paper. Rustling the tissue paper aside she pulled out the cup. Looking quizzically at Henry, she said, “I love it, but I don’t understand, it’s broken.”
“Let me tell you all a story. The story of this cup.” Henry said. He shared the story of the shopkeeper, the story of the cup and Henry’s own contribution to the story. The family sat quietly listening intently.
His wife looked up at him with love and tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry Henry for doubting your gift. What once was broken is now made whole again and it will be the most treasured and cherished item in my collection.”
*Part 2 will post before the New Year