A water carrying vessel.
Molded with clay by His hands into the perfect shape to carry what is needed and be held without being overbearing. Strong but delicate at the same time. Smooth outsides, grooved insides, made just right for the job it was to do. Carry water, sustain life, be held while holding those that carry it up.
The vessel is wanted by many hands. Everyone wants and needs the water inside and everyone covets the honor of holding the beautiful vessel.
Too many hands are trying to carry at it at the same time. They furiously pass it from one set to the other. Passing turns into grabbing, fighting, pulling.
The water sloshes out from all sides and no one notices because all they want is to hold the vessel. In the haste of hands wanting what they want it falls, the water is spilled and the vessel broken.
Fingers are pointed, accusations shouted. Tempers die down and the hands leave, the vessel is left alone lying broken in the dust.
The vessel once so beautiful and coveted now lies broken in the muddy mess caused by the spilling of her water. Her purpose ruined by letting herself be carried away by many instead of the one that created it.