I happened to be walking by when I heard glass breaking looking down I saw the broken inkwell.
"Zut!" sighed the dealer, as he looked at the broken inkwell on the ground. Bending down he picked up the pieces declaring, "Poubelle!"
My ears perked when I heard the word, "Poubelle" which means garbage in French.
"Bonjour Monsieur," I said politely, before asking, "If you are going to throw that broken inkwell away, can I have it instead?"
Laughing, he handed it to me saying, "Saves me a trip to the garbage, here take it."
Broken, saved, came home with me, Mother-in-law's nimble fingers glued it, now rests secured by my bedside.
At the right place at the right time, or symbolically broken made whole.
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