有一片拼圖頭一次看清楚自己----微小、破碎、扭曲，身上連一片花瓣都秀不完全。
這片拼圖非常沮喪，無法接受這樣的自己。
環顧四周，或覆或仰、或擠或散的拼圖們各有怨言。夜裡，一片寧靜的喧嘩。
只有一片單色的拼圖沉默，彷彿這一切都與他無關。
拼圖好奇，為什麼他一點兒也不抱怨？何況，他還只是片單色的拼圖！
不知過了多久，所有的怨言逐漸衰歇。窗外咯咯的蛙鳴聲，讓夜色更顯寧靜。
不知何時開始，主人開始在拼圖堆裡翻翻撿撿，有的拼圖被拾起又放下，有的被換了位置，但主人連一塊也沒拼上。
有些拼圖開始好奇主人的作為，彼此無聲地交換訊息。主人只是持續著動作，什麼話也不說。
然而那一片單色拼圖，卻始終躺在原處，彷彿被主人遺忘。可是單色拼圖也只是沉默----一種說不出來、篤定的沉默。
拼圖們搞不清楚主人的作為，時而好奇，時而乏味，就在這有一搭沒一搭的關注中，主人已經悄悄地將拼圖分成好幾小堆。
突然，主人的動作加速了，一片、兩片、三片……一下子，原本散亂的小堆開始出現雲、山、水、花……不同的圖案。
拼圖們看著彼此相連的半成品，遠比單獨的自己要漂亮許多，他們不自覺地互相靠緊，深怕一個閃神，又要跌回微小、破碎、扭曲的自己。
沒多久，所有的半成品通通被組成一幅精美的風景畫，拼圖們都醉了，慶幸這一幅的美好，有自己參與其中。
然而那片單色拼圖還躺在原處，沉默而篤定。拼圖們覺得遺憾，這美好的風景，竟然因為缺了一塊而不完美了！
主人撿起最後一片單色拼圖----他是天空。他回到該在的位置上，天空，又成為無盡的蔚藍。
The owner poured out the puzzle pieces—
a thousand of them scattered across the floor with a soft, rustling clatter.
One puzzle piece saw itself clearly for the very first time—
tiny, broken, twisted, unable even to hold a full petal within its borders.
The piece felt deeply disheartened, unable to accept what it was.
All around, other pieces lay face up or face down, crowded or apart,
each grumbling in its own way.
That night was filled with a quiet kind of noise.
Only one piece, a solid-colored one, remained silent—
as if none of this had anything to do with it.
The little puzzle piece grew curious.
Why didn’t that one complain at all?
Especially when it was merely a single-colored piece!
Time passed—no one knew how long.
The complaints slowly faded away.
Outside, the croaking of frogs made the night even more tranquil.
At some point, the owner began rummaging through the pile,
picking some pieces up, setting them down,
moving others around—
but not fitting a single one into place.
Some pieces started to wonder what the owner was doing,
exchanging silent glances and questions.
The owner just kept moving, wordlessly.
Yet the single-colored piece still lay where it had fallen,
as if forgotten—
silent, but with a kind of quiet certainty.
The pieces couldn’t make sense of the owner’s actions—
curious at times, bored at others—
and amid this distracted watching,
the owner had quietly sorted them into small piles.
Then suddenly, the owner’s movements quickened—
one piece, two pieces, three pieces…
Before long, from the scattered heaps emerged shapes—
clouds, mountains, water, flowers…
The pieces looked at the half-formed image—
so much more beautiful than any one of them alone.
They instinctively drew closer together,
afraid that if they drifted apart,
they would again become small, broken, and twisted.
Soon, all the half-finished sections came together
to form a magnificent landscape.
The pieces were mesmerized—
grateful to be part of such beauty.
Yet the single-colored piece still lay there,
silent and steadfast.
The others felt sorry for it—
this beautiful scene would forever remain incomplete without it!
Then, at last, the owner picked up the final single-colored piece—
it was the sky.
And when it was placed in its rightful spot,
the sky once again became an endless, boundless blue.
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