The vase placed high on the mantle, was out of reach of little hands, but somehow he managed. He just wanted to see if the tiny rosebud border went all around the back. He didn't realize that a boy's five-year-old hands are sometimes clumsy and not meant to hold delicate porcelain treasures. It shattered when it hit the floor, and he began to cry. That cry soon became a sobbing wail, growing louder and louder. From the kitchen, his mother heard her son crying and came around the corner. She stopped then, looked at him, and saw what he had done.
Between his sobs, he could hardly speak the words, "I broke.... the vase."
And then his mother gave him a gift. With a look of relief, his mother said "Oh, thank heavens, I thought you were hurt!" And she held him tenderly until his sobbing stopped.
She made it very clear... he was the treasure. Though now a grown man, it is a gift he still carries in his heart.
Original Story by Ann Weems, retold by Alice Gray in Stories for the Heart.