The Refiner’s Fire

Is this the story?

Dear Joan,

Tonight I have brought you a little teacup. I want it to stand as a symbol of strength to you. This cup was not always as beautiful and as translucent as it is now.

In the beginning it was fashioned of clay—carefully fashioned to be sure, for the potter took great pride in his work. To him the teacup had to be an expression of the beauty that he felt within himself. So he worked carefully, painstakingly; and when it was finished, he was proud of his work.

He knew, however, that no matter how carefully he worked, the teacup could not show its true beauty until the impurities in the clay from which it was fashioned had been burned out. Trembling, he put it in the kiln, for he knew full well that many other teacups had broken under such heat. He waited with great impatience. When the allotted time had passed, he looked in the kiln and to his joy found his teacup still whole. How beautiful it was!

Yet his practiced eye could still see flaws and he was not satisfied. He returned it to the kiln and subjected it to an even hotter fire. Again with trembling he waited, for he loved the teacup. How grateful he was when the second time he found it still in one piece, and how overjoyed he felt to see how the clay had been refined.

And yet he knew that there was still need for another firing. With some trepidation he subjected it to even greater heat. At last he held the teacup in his hand. He was satisfied. All the ugliness had been burned out of the clay, and the teacup showed the inner beauty that he had known was there all of the time.

Joan, dear, remember this little teacup when you are fired in the furnace of life. Remember that the “potter” is only trying to bring to light the true beauty that he can see in you.

Your loving Mother

See Mabel Jones Gabbott, “Today’s Family,” Ensign, May 1971, 77–79

This is the poem I’ve been trying to find for about 3 years I’m so glad you have it.