Lio, The Water Bearer
Once upon a time, in a small village near a tall, green
hill, there lived a cheerful water bearer named Lio. Every morning, Lio walked
down the hill to a stream to collect fresh water for the merchant who lived at
the very top of the hill. To carry the water, Lio used a long wooden pole that
rested across his shoulders hanging from each end of the pole was a pot.
One pot was smooth, shiny, and perfectly shaped. It always
held every drop of water Lio put inside it. The other pot, however, had a small
crack along its side. No matter how hard it tried, it could never keep all the
water—it always leaked a little on the way back up the hill.
The perfect pot often boasted, “I’m the best pot ever! I
deliver all my water every day!” The cracked pot stayed quiet. It felt sad,
because even though Lio never complained, the pot believed it was letting him
down.
One morning, after many months of walking up and down the
hill, the cracked pot finally spoke in a tiny, shaky voice. “Lio,” it
whispered, “I’m so sorry. I think I’ve been a burden to you. Because of my crack,
I always spill water. I’m not as good or useful as the other pot.”
Lio stopped walking and looked at the pot with kind eyes.
“My friend,” he said gently, “don’t be sad. You must look more carefully. On
our way back, I want you to watch the ground on your side of the path.” The
cracked pot didn’t understand, but it agreed.
So, after Lio filled both pots with fresh, cool stream
water, they began the long walk up the hill. As the warm sun rose above them,
the cracked pot looked down at the ground on its side of the path—and gasped.
There, stretching all the way up the hill, was a line of
bright, colorful flowers of different types! Purple violets peeked shyly from
leafy corners. Soft pink blossoms waved cheerfully in the breeze. Butterflies
danced above them, drinking nectar and fluttering from one bloom to the next.
The cracked pot had never seen such beauty. When they
reached the top of the hill, Lio carefully put the pots down. He smiled proudly
and said, “All these months, I’ve known about your crack. I planted flower
seeds along your side of the path because I knew you would water them each day.
You may think you’re flawed, but look at the magic you’ve helped create!”
The cracked pot felt warm joy spread through its clay. It
was no longer ashamed. It realized that its crack—something it thought was a
weakness—had been helping the flowers grow all along.
From that day forward, the cracked pot held its head high.
It still leaked water, yes—but now it knew it was watering beauty with every
drop. And the hill, covered in bright blossoms, was the happiest it had ever
been.
Moral of the story
The “cracks” we carry—our imperfections, vulnerabilities, or differences—don’t make us useless; they make us unique, and sometimes they allow life, growth, or kindness to flourish in ways we can’t immediately see.
The cracked pot believed it was failing, but in truth it had
been quietly nurturing a path full of flowers. Likewise, people often
contribute in meaningful ways without even realizing it.
Lio, The Water Bearer
Once upon a time, in a small village near a tall, green hill (hil), there lived a cheerful (CHEER-ful) water bearer (WAW-ter BAIR-er) named Lio. Every morning, Lio walked down the hill to a stream (streem) to collect fresh water for the merchant (MUR-chuhnt) who lived at the very top of the hill. To carry (KA-ree) the water, Lio used a long wooden pole (pohl) that rested across his shoulders hanging from each end of the pole was a pot.
One pot was smooth, shiny, and perfectly shaped. It always held every drop of water Lio put inside it. The other pot, however, had a small crack along its side. No matter how hard it tried, it could never keep all the water—it always leaked (leekt) a little on the way back up the hill.
The perfect pot often boasted, "I'm the best pot ever! I deliver all my water every day!" The cracked pot stayed quiet. It felt sad, because even though Lio never complained (kuhm-PLAYND), the pot believed it was letting him down (LET-ing him DOWN).
One morning, after many months of walking up and down the hill, the cracked pot finally spoke in a tiny, shaky voice. "Lio," it whispered (WIS-perd), "I'm so sorry. I think I've been a burden (BUR-duhn) to you. Because of my crack, I always spill water. I'm not as good or useful as the other pot."
Lio stopped walking and looked at the pot with kind eyes. "My friend," he said gently, "don't be sad. You must look more carefully. On our way back, I want you to watch the ground on your side of the path." The cracked pot didn't understand, but it agreed.
So, after Lio filled both pots with fresh, cool stream water, they began the long walk up the hill. As the warm sun rose above them, the cracked pot looked down at the ground on its side of the path—and gasped.
There, stretching all the way up the hill, was a line of bright, colorful flowers of different types! Purple violets peeked shyly from leafy corners. Soft pink blossoms waved cheerfully in the breeze. Butterflies danced above them, drinking nectar and fluttering (FLUH-ter-ing) from one bloom to the next.
The cracked pot had never seen such beauty. When they reached the top of the hill, Lio carefully put the pots down. He smiled proudly and said, "All these months, I've known about your crack. I planted flower seeds along your side of the path because I knew you would water them each day. You may think you're flawed, but look at the magic you've helped create!"
The cracked pot felt warm joy spread through its clay. It was no longer ashamed. It realized (REE-uh-lyzd) that its crack—something it thought was a weakness (WEEK-nes)—had been helping the flowers grow all along.
From that day forward, the cracked pot held its head high. It still leaked water, yes—but now it knew it was watering beauty with every drop. And the hill, covered in bright blossoms, was the happiest it had ever been.
Moral of the Story
The "cracks" we carry—our imperfections, vulnerabilities, or differences—don't make us useless; they make us unique, and sometimes they allow life, growth, or kindness to flourish in ways we can't immediately see.
The cracked pot believed it was failing, but in truth it had been quietly nurturing a path full of flowers. Likewise, people often contribute in meaningful ways without even realizing it.
Vocabulary Lesson
water bearer (WAW-ter BAIR-er)
A person who carries and delivers water
cheerful (CHEER-ful)
Happy and positive
hill (hil)
A raised area of land, smaller than a mountain
stream (streem)
A small river of flowing water
merchant (MUR-chuhnt)
A person who buys and sells goods
carry (KA-ree)
To hold and move something from one place to another
pole (pohl)
A long, thin stick used to carry or support things
leak (leek)
To let liquid escape through a hole or crack
complain (kuhm-PLAYN)
To say you are unhappy about something
let down (LET DOWN)
To disappoint someone
whisper (WIS-per)
To speak very quietly
burden (BUR-duhn)
Something heavy or difficult to carry
flutter (FLUH-ter)
To move with quick, light movements like wings
realize (REE-uh-lize)
To understand or become aware of something
weakness (WEEK-nes)
A fault or something you're not good at
Matching Game
Click on a word, then click on its meaning to match them!