Long ago, in a faraway land,
There lived a man with calloused hands.
His life was quiet, his days were plain,
But shaping clay eased all his pain.
Each morning heād sit at his cluttered table,
Molding the clay as best he was able.
Most days, the work brought peace and grace,
But this time, his efforts just felt like a waste.
āWhat am I doing?ā the old man cried.
āThe top is too lumpy, and the bo...
