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My Life as a Gravy Boat
Being on the top shelf in life is probably seen by some as a pinnacle, except in my case, it's not quite as pinnacle-y as I would like it to be. I suppose if you want to understand a little about me, you might need to understand why my outlook on the top shelf isn't as bright as you might expect!
I didn't start out on the top shelf. Oh no! I started on the third shelf from the bottom – the perfect height for the average shopper to glance over. That's where it all began. All shiny with my curves glistening in the light, slim line, no cracks, no chips – brand spanking new... how every gravy boat wants to start out! I was out there for all the world to see, but soon I realized that there was something "different" about me. What that was I could never quite tell but by the way that people would walk past, look at me, and quickly look away – averting their eyes and preferring to pick up the gravy boat next to me – or whatever else was beside me. It didn't matter just as long as they didn't have to interact with that thing.
Every now and then, someone would notice me and I'd be so happy. I'd do everything I could to keep their attention... suck in my spout, thrust my handle back so I would look better... anything! Eventually though, they would bore of me and without a backwards glance (or maybe a backwards glance with a snicker of laughter thrown in for good measure), they would toss me back onto the shelf and walk away. I was left to pick myself up, dust myself off, and try to regain some form of composure, all the while keeping my outward sense of humor intact. Someone once told me that if you can laugh at yourself then people laugh with you, not at you – sometimes that's hard to do... other times, it's great fun.
After a while I got moved. The other gravy boats seemed pleased – not that I was any competition, but because when I was on their shelf, I dragged down their neighborhood. I like to think of myself as adding a little bit of unusual flair to a run-of-the-mill shelf.
My first move was onto the next shelf up. Eventually I ended up getting further and further towards the back of the shelf where it was even more difficult to get noticed. Try as I might with my colors (I like to think of them as my smile), I just didn't stand out. I blended into the shelf and was unrecognizable amongst the more beautiful plates and crockery around me. In the end, I found my way to the top shelf, and there I sat, watching all of the other gravy boats find their homes, their new families, while I ached for my own family, someone I could make happy – to pour for when needed.
I have to say that I was manhandled on some occasions. People just picked me up and didn't care about my feelings, turning me over and over so I wasn't sure which way was up anymore – then tossing me onto the shelf without any respect for my feelings or even if they had damaged me. But I mustered my spirits, and from the top shelf, I decided that this was as safe a place as any might be. I was away from the mainstream, yet I could still see what was going on. I was relatively safe up here away from the prying, laughing, condescending eyes of the vast majority of shoppers. Yes, I was content with my life as a gravy boat on the top shelf.
Then one day it happened. I was there minding my own business when I heard those long-awaited words: "Ooh, this one looks interesting." And before I knew it, the most amazing hands had taken hold of me, seen beyond my unusual exterior (some may say unattractive but that can be such a harsh word), and decided that theirs was the home that needed a gravy boat just like me. Without a backward glance, I left the top shelf, exited the shop, and left behind all of those that said I would never leave the top shelf unbroken.
Now I have a home of my own - my own niche in life where someone loves my intricacies and how I look, how I hold myself. Conversation is easy because of my distinctiveness. I even cause laughter, but it's generally on my terms and I'm happy with that - my uniqueness is theirs and they rejoice in it. I am a gravy boat that has found her home and loves how she is unique – it may have taken a while to be found, but the wait was so worth it! Whether my gravy is for just my family or for visitors, I am so happy to be where I am now and wouldn't change my path to reach this place for anything.
Note: When I went shopping a few weeks ago, I found this gravy boat on the top shelf (unusual for me as I'm short and I rarely get to see what's on the top shelf). I don't collect gravy boats, I don't generally buy on a spur of the moment, but when I saw this gravy boat, I knew I had to have it. It's not ugly - it's unique, and that's what caught my attention.
When I got it home, I showed my husband – and it was then that I pictured myself as this gravy boat. Afloat in the big wide world where everyone expects you to be perfect, and I'm far from it. My husband was the man who picked me out when others had picked me up and tossed me aside. But he saw me for who I was and loves me for that. I love my new gravy boat... and it will be on my table on many occasions for all to see its uniqueness and qualities beyond just the visual.
Carole Ivener
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