I was 11 years old, in the sixth grade, when our art teacher said we were going to work with clay. We were instructed to create something, and paint it. She would put it in the kiln for us but we would have to wait to see our finished creations until after the kiln process was complete. The kiln, she explained, would get very hot and would dry our clay and set the paint, making a form of pottery.
I decided I would make a small piggy bank for my dad. I formed it just so and gave it a perky snout and eyes with eyelashes. I finished up with a slit in the top for the coins. I chose a bright red color for my pig. It didn't look red when I painted it on my pig, it looked brown. My teacher said the heat in the kiln would turn the paint to red. She put our creations in the kiln and said we'd have to wait several days to see our finished product.
The day came and we came to class excited to see our creations! I couldn't wait to see my piggy bank! When I got to my seat, there sat a skinny, brown piggy bank with a spot of red on his snout. I had to hold my tears in, it was so ugly. How could I give it to my dad? I asked my teacher about the color, she said perhaps the kiln wasn't hot enough to help the paint change to red. I was devastated. The teacher announced that she was entering our artwork and creations in the school's upcoming art show. There would be ribbons for the winners.
On art show day, I ran all the way to the library to see my piggy bank on display. I was hoping against hope the judges would see my creativity and the personality on the face of my pig. I got to the table where my pig was displayed and, wonder of wonders, there was a 2nd place ribbon next to my pig! I picked up the ribbon, so excited, and turned to show a classmate. It was then, I realized, the ribbon wasn't mine...my pig hadn't even won an honorable mention. Well, of course not. Why would I even think my pig had a chance? It really was an ugly pig. I put the ribbon back, picked up my pig, and quietly went back to class with tears in my eyes.
That night, I braved up and gave my dad the piggy bank I made for him. I was ashamed it was so ugly. My dad oohed and ahhed over it! He loved the perky snout and bright eyes! He got up and said he was going to put it on his dresser so he could see it and enjoy it. He even gave me a quarter to put in as the very first coin. My dad loved my piggy bank! He kept it on his dresser until he passed away. Then, my piggy bank came home to live with me.
You see, to my dad, my piggy bank was beautiful simply because I made it. He didn't see the flaws. He only saw that his daughter had taken the time to create something for him. To my dad, it wasn't a 2nd place pig, it was a grand prize!
It has taken me this long to remember the story and to share it. There have been many opportunities to think of myself as 2nd place, or not good enough. But then I remember, I am exactly who God created me to be. I might have some flaws and might not always do or say the right thing, but I am still going through my heavenly father's kiln process and I am not finished yet. I will never need a ribbon to prove my worth because I am already loved, just as I am, perky nose and all!
