The Dent and Chip Room

Poem/Story

A delicate teacup with a sliver or ceramic missing after being carelessly dropped, sits on a shelf where’s it’s been haphazardly propped. Next to it rests a lamp that had once brightly blazed, but now solemnly produces only darkness after failing to be praised.  A mahogany table leans precariously on merely three legs, one pillar lost with a resounding retort, following too much pressure placed on its once-believed indestructible supports. And finally, a dusty old armchair hides in the corner, not having been misused but merely ignored, and it’s once bright and cheery pattern appears faded and worn. Each is convinced it belongs, tucked away in the dent-and-chip room as if nothing is wrong.

And then a figure materializes in the door, meandering by without preconceived notions, instead just waiting to find one to adore. The teacup trembles with anxiety, fearing another insensitive touch, while the lamp apathetically emits a distinct lack of light, burnt out from caring too much. The table suspiciously follows the new figure’s form, convinced none have the ability to bring about any real reform. Meanwhile, the chair dejectedly hides in a nook, knowing attention will never be directed towards her lackluster looks. The “As-Is” sign overhead fails to persuade, that those in the room will ever be remade. They all fully believe clearance is deserved, because who would pay full price for something not wholly preserved?

And then the unthinkable happens, as the creaky wheels of a shopping cart roll by, and each item is lovingly placed in the basket, although they can’t help but think, “God knows why.” Missing pieces, broken features, and damaged appearances have all led to a lost confidence in their own usefulness. Yet he’d picked up the weary and the confused, saving each item “As-Is” and ignoring the bruise. Awestruck wonder at the thought of your love, as you took us from the grave and lifted us above.

The teacup now gleams on a different top shelf, proudly showing off a chipped rim as a symbol of compassion she was unable to give herself. The lamp now twinkles in bright success, displaying a type of luminescence that it had previously been unable to express. The table stands firm having been carefully rebuilt, with supports that assure it will never again tilt. And the armchair, once believed to be entirely unworthy of affections, now revels in the warmth supplied by an occupant whose acceptance never lessons.