"Why are you repeating that statement so often, mother?" the daughter jar asked with some exasperation.

"Because I don’t want you to ever forget it. And you must associate only with your kind of jar."

So through her young years, she kept in mind she was an earthen jar. She saw other kinds of jar. There was the elegant porcelain jar. Even a shiny brass jar. And a fragile glass jar. She accepted they were different.

But she would not fully reconcile why she could not associate with other jars. After all they were all jars. Maybe they were made of different materials. And colored different. Some white, some black, some brown, and others yellow. They had their own individual worth. They were molded equal. All were created to be containers or ornamental decorations.

One day, a winsome porcelain jar invited her to take a dip in the lake. At first she refused. But later, her belief in the equality of all jars got the better of her. And she was attracted by the handsome porcelain jar. Embellished with ornate designs and bright colorful paints. Even gilded on the shoulders and base with sheets of gold leaf. His shape was exotic and appeared regal in his stance.

"Why not? There is nothing wrong with swimming in the lake with another kind of jar. We will not do any thing improper," she muttered to herself. To the porcelain jar she acceded and said, "Yes, I will swim in the lake with you. But just for a short while to refresh myself."

"Let’s go," shouted the porcelain jar enthusiastically.

They both jumped into the lake and enjoyed the feel of the cold water. It felt reinvigorating on that hot humid day.

As they splashed in the water, waves began to form. The porcelain jar came nearer her. Without meaning to, they suddenly hit each other violently. A big wave had recoiled from the side of the lake. There was a strong thud.

The porcelain jar remained intact as though nothing had happened. But the earthen jar cracked on impact.

As she crumbled and slowly submerged under water, the earthen jar remembered her mother.