The Magic Vase

The year was 1946. I was a private in the U. S. Signal Corps serving in India. My home away from home was Camp Kanchrapara. World War II had ended and I was waiting for a troop ship to take me back to the United States.

There was a young boy named Abdul, aged ten, who had a job with the troops. He would do chores like removing trash and keeping the tents clean. He and I had formed a friendship where we would spend much of the time joking back and forth. He'd often say to me, "You rajah, me coolie." I'd respond, "No, Abdul, you rajah, me coolie." We'd laugh. He was smart and I'd spend time teaching him arithmetic. We had gotten to the point where he had mastered the multiplication table from 0 times 0 to 12 times 12.

One day, he brought me a present. It was the vase you see in the pictures. He said he had done this because I had shown an interest in him and had started him in understanding numbers. I accepted it with some hesitation because I knew he did not earn a great deal of money with the soldiers. I offered him three rupees for the vase but he wouldn't hear of it.

"This is magic vase," he declared. "It will grant your wishes." "Oh, Abdul," I replied, "I'm very pleased that you have given me this, but there isn't any such thing as a magic vase." "Yes, there is," he insisted. This is magic vase given to me by fakir." "That's baloney, Abdul!" I said. "No baloney, Sahib," he persisted. "This is true magic vase, see magic signs on side." There were indeed curious, hand-carved images on the exterior of the vase. There were crooked arrows pointing up and down, long stems with exotic flowers at the end, and other characters that had no comprehensible descriptions. Abdul showed me how to use the vase to make a wish.

The next day Abdul asked me if I had made a wish using the magic vase. I replied that I had not but that I would. He insisted that I do this at once. In response, I took the vase in my left hand, as he had showed me, and rotated the circular base. He looked expectantly as I voiced my wish. "I wish to get assigned to a troop ship today," I said. I was a consummate skeptic in those days and did not expect anything to happen; however, when I went to my tent that evening, I found my name on the bulletin board. It was on a list of soldiers that were to ship out on the following day. I was to be homeward bound!

All I had time for with Abdul was a brief good bye. But, over the years, I thought of him often. There were many occasions when I could have tested the vase to see if it was genuinely magic. But, I wanted to wait until a truly important reason to make a wish turned up. I did not want to have it proved that the vase was not magic.

Today, I am sixty-six years older than when I left India and have lost much of my skepticism. In my heart, I now know that Abdul was right. This is a truly magical vase. At my age, I will probably have only one more opportunity to ask it to grant an important wish, but when I do, that wish will be granted.