Tale of Three Paintings

 An artist sat at his desk, thinking. He looked out his window, at the beautiful sparkling waves in the ocean, with the shining sunset sending its rays out across the waters. He looked at the colourful flowers that had bloomed across the earth, dancing in the wind happily.

The artist studied the sky, then closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he stood up with determination. He stepped outside and walked to the store where he bought the supplies he would need.

He went home and put his canvas on his wooden easel, then he opened the new paints and dipped his paintbrush in the orange. He thoughtfully painted a streak across the white canvas.

He painted, and pondered, then painted again. When he was unhappy with the way it was turning out, he painted over it and started again. Finally, when he was absolutely delighted with the way it looked, and couldn’t stop staring at it, he set it on top of his mantel and ran to his neighbours.

“Come!” He cried. “Come and see my new creation!”

All his neighbours followed him to his house and stared in awe at the beautiful painting of the sunset on his mantel. The artist looked proudly at it, knowing he had spent two days on it, and he was so pleased it had turned out wonderful.

He looked at where one of the rays faltered and slanted upwards, giving it a crooked look. But he loved it and believed it added more appeal.

A week later, the artist looked out his window again, observing the way the waves in the ocean rolled over each other, hitting the sand with a crash. The way the sun created glittering diamonds on the waters.

He closed his eyes and let his imaginative mind create a picture. Then he hopped up and went to the store, buying the perfect tools for his new idea.

When he got home he dabbed his brush in the dark blue, and glided it over the canvas, leaving a pretty blue line. He painted all day then day turned into night, which dawned into day. Still, he sat at his desk and painted.

Finally, when he was delighted with the way his ocean looked, with the waves crashing, and the water glittering, he grinned broadly and put it on his mantel, beside his sunset.

He hurried and called his neighbours, who ran over to see his other work of art, and oohed and ahhed at the sight. He knew that his waves didn’t quite have the right look of a wave, but he loved it and believed it added more appeal.

A month later, the artist looked out the window to where the bright green meadow with it’s dancing flowers stood. He examined the way the petals all came together, almost as one. He noticed that each flower was slightly different, even though very similar.

He closed his eyes and thought carefully, his mind scheming up a gorgeous scene. He went to the store and collected all the items he would need, then went home. He set up the canvas on the easel and pulled out the paints. Then he dunked his paintbrush into the green and began painting the meadow. Slowly he added pinks and purples and yellows. Flowers began to emerge from the colours and he worked all day and all night.

Finally, when out of the meadow flowers were blooming - all different colours and kinds - he set his brush down and smiled. He studied it admiringly and he nodded, It was complete.

He put it on his mantle, beside the beautiful ocean.

Then he went to his neighbours to come see, and they followed on his heels. When they saw the third wondrous painting, sitting there beautifully on the mantle, they gazed at it with admiration.

The artist loved the way two of the flowers didn’t look exactly like flowers, for they were only dots of paint. But he loved it, believing it added more appeal.

The artist was thoroughly proud of his works of art and had no favourite. He noticed that each piece alone was beautiful but together they were breathtaking.

Though the artist loved them, each piece sitting on the mantle was jealous.

Sunset said to Meadow of Flowers “Look at the way Ocean sparkles. See the way the waves seem to roll? Ocean is so pretty! I wish I were that pretty, Look! This ray is crooked and looks funny. I’m not pretty.”  She groaned.

Later, Meadow of Flowers said to Ocean, “Oh look at how Sunset shines! Her rays gleam across the whole sky and her colours are gorgeous! I’ll never be as gorgeous as her. Two of my flowers don’t look like petals, and some of them are droopy! My grass is too bright, and I’m just not gorgeous!”  She complained.

Then later, Ocean said to Sunset “Look at how beautiful Meadow of Flowers is! She has so many different colours - pink, green, yellow. All I am is different shades of blue! She has beautiful bright green grass, and her flowers are full of bloom. My waves don’t even look like waves. I’m not beautiful!” She moaned.

The artist heard all of their cries. He heard Sunset say she wanted to be like Ocean. He heard Meadow of Flowers say she wanted to be like Sunset. He heard Ocean say she wanted to be like Meadow of Flowers.

When he heard them complain, a tear slowly formed and trickled down his face. He began to weep. He was so sad that the paintings he was proud of were ashamed to be themselves. He was sad that they wanted to be someone else. And he was sad that they didn’t like who he had created them to be. So he cried.

When his paintings heard him cry, they were filled with sadness.

“Old Master, why are you crying?” They asked him.

He looked up at them with sorrow. “I’m crying because Sunset wants to be Ocean, and Meadow of Flowers wants to be Sunset, and Ocean wants to be Meadow of Flowers. I’m crying because you don’t like how I made you.”

They looked at each other in silence, but the artist went on. “You don’t know that I spent hours working on you? Each one of you wants to be someone else! When you compare yourself to someone else, you will always lose, because you compare your worst faults to their best gift. But please, don’t compare! It’s not worth it and it’ll get you nowhere. So be happy with how I made you, and I won’t cry.” He promised.

All three paintings on the mantle thought about what they had said about themselves and each other. They thought about the loving artist’s words. They thought about how they would be happier if they were happy with how he made them.

Slowly they each understood. He loved them for who they were, and he even loved Sunset’s crooked ray, Meadow of Flowers’ strange blossoms, and Ocean’s waves that didn’t look like waves.

“We’re sorry, Sir. Because we see that you are right and each one of us is very beautiful. And we promise to try to be happy with who you made us to be.” They said.

And they did try. They tried to be happy, and they were. The three paintings on the mantle were very happy with how he made them, and they laughed and talked and giggled.

They were happy with who the Artist had made them to be. Because he loved them the same and was pleased with their beauty.