The Wooded 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 father," said the son. "I've had 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, sometime 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 in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work .

The words so struck the parents so 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.

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 a lot about a person by the way he/she handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, 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 pains, 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.

Reach out and touch someone today, we all need to feel that we are of value to someone.

JESUS is the REASON for the SEASON...

A Baby's Hug

(Courtesy of Kasey Baby)

A Baby's Hug
>
> We were the only family with chil dren in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a
> high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly,
> Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his fat baby hands on
> the
> high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was
> bared
> in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.
>
>
>
> I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose
> pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of
> would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and
> unwashed.
> His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so
> varicose it looked like a road map.
>
>
>
> We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands
> waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I
> see
> ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.
>
>
>
> My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?'
>
>
>
> Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'
>
>
>
> Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man.
> The
> old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came
> and
> the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do you
> know
> peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'
>
>
>
> Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.
>
>
>
> My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik,
> who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who
> in
> turn, reciproc ated with his cute comments.
>
>
>
> We finally got through the meal a nd headed for the door. My husband went
> to
> pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat
> poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he
> speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my
> back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I
> did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's
> 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself
> from my arms to the man.
>
>
>
> Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their
> love
> and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his
> tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw
> tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and
> hard
> labor, cradled my baby's bot tom and stroked his back. No two beings have
> ever loved so deeply for so short a time.
>
>
>
> I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his
> eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice,
> 'You take care of this baby.'
>
>
>
> Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone.
>
>
>
> He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in
> pain. I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've
> given me my Christmas gift.'
>
>
>
> I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran
> for
> the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so
> tightly, and why I wa s saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'
>
>
>
> I had just witnessed Chri st's love shown through the innocence of a tiny
> child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a
> mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding
> a
> child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share
> your
> son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity.
>
>
>
> The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of
> God , we must become as little children.'
>
>
>
> If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on. Sometimes,
> it
> takes a child to remind us of what is really important. We must always
> remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel
> about others. The clothes on your back or the car t h a t you drive or the
> house that you live in does not define you at all; it is how you treat > your
> fellow man that identifies who you are.
>
>
>
> >
> 'It is better to be liked for the true you, than to be loved for who
> people
> think you are......'