Helen, your poems speak with a thousand words...thank
you ....Marianne
--- Helen Dynda <olddad66@runestone.net> wrote:
> The Wooden Bowl > > A frail old man went to live with his son, > daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. > > The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was > blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate > together at the table. But the elderly > grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made > eating difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto > the floor. When he grasped the glass, milk > spilled on the tablecloth. > > The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with > the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," > said the son. "I've ad enough of his spilled milk, > noisy eating, and food on the floor." So the > husband and wife set a small table in the corner. > > There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the > family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken > a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. > When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, > sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. > Still, the only words the couple had for him were > sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled > food. > > The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One > evening before supper, the father noticed his son > playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the > child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as > sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a > little bowl for you and Mama to eat your food when I > grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to > work. > > The words so struck the parents that they were > speechless. Then tears started to stream down their > cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what > must be done. That evening the husband took > Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the > family table. For the > remainder of his days he ate every meal with the > family. And for some reason, neither husband nor > wife seemed to care any longer when a > fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth > soiled. > > Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever > observe, their ears ever listen, and their minds > ever process the messages they absorb. If they see > us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for > family members, they will imitate that attitude for > the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes > that every day the building blocks are being laid > for the child's future. > > Let's be wise builders and role models. Lord, we > ask not that you move the mountains; but that You > give us the strength to climb. "Life is about > people connecting with people, and making a positive > difference." Take care of yourself ... and those > you love ... today, and everyday! > > I've learned that no matter what happens, how bad it > seems today, life does go on, and it will be better > tomorrow. > > I've learned that you can tell alot about a person > by the way he/she handles three things: a rainy > day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree > lights. > > I've learned that, regardless of your relationship > with your parents, you'll miss them when they're > gone from your life. > > I've learned that making a "living" is not the same > thing as making a "life." > > I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second > chance. > > I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with > a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able > to throw something back. > > I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will > elude you. But, if you focus on your family, your > friends, the needs of others, your work and doing > the very best you can, happiness will find you. > > I've learned that whenever I decide something with > an open heart, I usually make the right decision. > > I've learned that even when I have pain, I don't > have to be one. > > I've learned that every day you should reach out and > touch someone. People love that human touch -- > holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on > the back. > > I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. > > I've learned that you should pass this on to > everyone you care about. I just did. Sometimes > they just need a little something to make them > smile. People will forget what you said -- people > will forget what you did -- but people will never > forget how you made them feel. >