Stories with Morals - Make Fun Of Life!

The Weight of a Snowflake

8/6/2018

The Weight of a Snowflake

“Tell me the weight of a snowflake,” a coalmouse* asked a wild dove.” Nothing more than nothing,” responded the dove.

“In that case, I must tell you a marvelous story,” the coalmouse said.” I sat on the branch of a fir, close to its trunk, when it began to snow, not heavily, not in a raging blizzard . . . no . . . just like in a dream, without any violence. Since I didn’t have anything better to do, I counted the snowflakes settling on the twigs and needles of my branch. Their number was exactly 3,741,952. When the next snowflake dropped onto the branch weighing nothing more than nothing, as you say, the branch broke off.”

Having said that, the coalmouse flew away. The dove, having been since Noah’s time an authority on the matter, thought about the story for a while and finally said to herself, “Perhaps there is only one person’s voice lacking for peace to come about in the world.”

by Author Unknown

* coalmouse: a type of small, wild bird.

The Oyster’s Story

8/5/2018

Once upon a time, and maybe even nowadays, whole oysters in their shells could be bought in cans. You would open up the can, and possibly or possibly not, find inside the oyster shell, a pearl . . .

The Oyster’s Story

There once was an oyster
     Whose story I’ll tell,
Who found that some sand
     Had worked under his shell.

Just one little grain
     But it gave him such pain
(For oysters have feelings
     That are very plain).

Now did he berate
     This working of fate,
That left him in such a
     Deplorable state?

Did he curse the government?
     Call for an election?
Or gripe that the sea
     Should have given him protection?

No! He said to himself
     As he sat on the shelf,
“Since I cannot remove it,
     I think I’ll improve it.”

Well, years passed by,
     As years always do,
Till he came to his destiny,
     Oyster stew!

But the small grain of sand
     That had bothered him so,
Was a beautiful pearl
     All richly aglow.

Now this tale has a moral,
     For isn’t it grand,
What an oyster can do
     With a small grain of sand?

And what couldn’t we do
     If we’d only begin
With all of the things
     That get under our skin?

by Author Unknown

Conference of the Carpenter’s Tools

8/4/2018

Conference of the Carpenter’s Tools

One day, the carpenter’s tools had a conference. Brother Hammer was in the chair. Upon bringing the meeting to order, he said he understood that there were complaints among his fellow tools and he thought it would be good to discuss it openly together.

“Yes, Brother Saw, what is your complaint?”

Brother Saw stood up and said, “It’s that little Brother Pencil. He gets on everyone’s nerves, he is so small. He can’t be found when he’s needed and when he’s doing service, he is so blunt at times that he makes very bad impressions. He certainly needs to be sharpened up a bit around here if he expects to be of any use!”

Little Brother Pencil slowly rose to his feet and said, “All right, perhaps I am a little blunt at times. It’s only when I spend too long a time in service that I’m like that, but at least I’m not like Brother Drill and his family of small bits. They are always going around in circles, and really, Brother Drill seems just a bit boring.”

Brother Drill and his family of small bits stood up and replied, “Yes, I know we have a reputation for going in circles, but at least we are not like Brother Plane. You really have to push him to get him to do anything at all. And then, all of his work is on the surface. There certainly is no depth to his work like there is to ours.”

All eyes turned to Brother Plane to see what he would say. Quickly Brother Plane spoke up. “Brothers, I guess I’m not the only one around here that has to be pushed to do anything or that has no depth to his service. Brother Sandpaper is worse than I am.” Brother Sandpaper was somewhat new in their midst. “Besides, look how rough he is. I just can’t stand being next to him. He just rubs me the wrong way. How he could accomplish any good in his service being so rough, I’ll never know.”

That remark made Brother Sandpaper really angry. “Brother Plane is just jealous, that’s all! And while everyone is complaining, I’d like to complain about Brother Rule. He makes me grit my teeth; always measuring others by his standards as though he’s the only one who is right around here.

How about Brother Level? He is so exacting! And there’s Brother Compass and Brother Tape Measure and that Brother Punch doesn’t finish what he starts most of the time.”

Well, the tools were really getting hot. Their tempers were flaring. All seemed to have legitimate complaints against one another, but just then, when some were even getting ready to walk out of the carpenter’s hall, some thinking that they were not useful or needed, who should walk in but the Master Carpenter from Nazareth. He had come to perform His work for the day.

His Father had asked Him to build a house that they could both dwell in and He was now almost finished with it. He put His work clothes on and started to finish the work His Father had given Him to do. He used every tool.

Now someone else appeared on the scene. It was the carpenter’s Father. How thrilled and pleased He was to see what His Son had accomplished. “How did you do it, my Son?” asked the Father.

“I put to good use all of the tools that I bought and how I love every one of them. I paid a high price for them, Father, but they are well worth it.

See the hammer over there? He is so useful for both the work of tearing down and building up. He is very effective in service because he really hits the nail on the head. He’s a very solid worker, I must say.

Then there is the saw. He’s really pretty sharp and puts his teeth into the work, constantly going back and forth in one area at a time for very effective service

I am certainly happy to have my pencil. Although he’s not very big and I have to sharpen him from time to time, just like some of the other tools, he is very useful in the correcting and marking work.

“Father, here is another tool I just couldn’t be without. Big drill and these small bits of his family. They are all so good at reaching deep into the heart and are always leaving the way open for additional work.

And just look at this plane. He is so handy to have around in service. He’s such a smooth worker and doesn’t bite off more than he can handle at one time. He is certainly good at overcoming obstacles as well.

And do you see Brother Level over there? He has a good eye for balance and is very level headed.

And although little Brother Punch is very small, with the assistance of Brother Hammer, he does an excellent job of driving his point home.

Although Brother Tape Measure is small in size, he is always extending himself to meet various circumstances and, like Brother Rule, is accurate in his statements.

Even my new tools, like Brother Sandpaper, I wouldn’t want to do without him. Although there is a certain roughness, he will wind up with smooth results.”

“So you see Father, I’m thankful because I have this variety of tools. With their service, I will finish your house. Let me show you around the rest of the building.”

Well, upon their leaving, all of the carpenter’s tools started rejoicing because each received compliments from the Master and saw how pleased His Father was with what they all had accomplished together.

Brother Hammer now again rose in the midst and said, “Brothers, I perceive that all of us are needed. For although we all may have our weak points at times, and we do not do things exactly the way others think we should, whether we are old or new, large or small, we are all important tools in the hands of the Master Carpenter.”

by Author Unknown

Train Ride

8/3/2018

Train Ride

An old man was sitting with his twenty-five-year-old son on a train. The train was about to leave the station. All of the passengers were settling down into their seats for the journey. As the train started, the young man was filled with joy and curiosity. He was sitting at the window seat. He put out one hand and felt the passing air. He shouted, “Papa, see all the trees are going behind.” The old man smiled and admired his son’s feelings. Beside the young man, one couple was sitting and listing to the conversion between the father and son. They were a little awkward with the attitude of a twenty-five-year-old man behaving like a small child. Suddenly the young man again shouted, “Papa, see the pond and animals. The clouds are moving with the train.” The couple was watching the young man in embarrassment. Then it started raining and some of the water drops touched the young man’s hand. He was filled with joy and he closed the eyes. He shouted again, “Papa, it’s raining, water is touching me, see Papa.” The couple could not help themselves and asked the old man, “Why don’t you visit a doctor and get treatment for your son?” The old man said, “Yes, we are coming from the hospital, and only today did my son get his eyesight, for the first time in his life.”

The moral of the story is: We ought to refrain from drawing conclusions until the facts are known.

by Author Unknown

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

8/2/2018

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Once there was a shepherd boy who had to look after a flock of sheep. One day, he felt bored and decided to play a trick on the villagers. He shouted, “Help! Wolf! Wolf!”

The villagers heard his cries and rushed out of the village to help the shepherd boy. When they reached him, they asked, “Where is the wolf?” The shepherd boy laughed loudly, “Ha, Ha, Ha! I fooled all of you.

I was only playing a trick on you.”

A few days later, the shepherd boy played this trick again.

Again he cried, “Help! Help! Wolf! Wolf!” Again, the villagers rushed up the hill to help him and again they found that boy had tricked them. They were very angry with him for being so naughty.

Then, some time later, a wolf went into the field. The wolf attacked one sheep, and then another and another. The shepherd boy ran towards the village shouting, “Help! Help! Wolf! Help! Somebody!”

The villagers heard his cries but they laughed because they thought it was another trick. The boy ran to the nearest villager and said, “A wolf is attacking the sheep. I lied before, but this time it is true!”

Finally, the villagers went to look. It was true. They could see the wolf running away and many dead sheep lying on the grass.

Moral of the story: We may not believe someone who often tells lies, even when he tells the truth.

by Author Unknown

On the Trail

6/30/2018

I can smell the fox, I know there is a fox, it is definitely nearby . . .

On the Trail

Once a long time ago a hound was out with his master trailing a mountain lion. The hound came to a place where a fox had crossed the trail, and the hound decided to follow the fox instead of the lion.

A short time later, a rabbit crossed that of the fox, and again the hound changed direction. Why should he chase a fox when a rabbit might be easier to catch?

When the hunter finally caught up with his hound, the dog was barking at a small hole in the ground. The hound had brought to bay a field mouse instead of a mountain lion.

Well, how about you? Have you set out on a trail to achieve your ambition? Are you able to follow it, or are you sidetracked by easier trails that cross it from time to time?

Don’t be like that hound. Find out what it takes to achieve your ambition, and then get started. The best way to achieve anything in life is to set a true course for it and then stick to that trail.

by Author Unknown

A Little Story

6/23/2018

A Little Story

I am going to tell you a little story . . .

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death. The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman’s sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

“I want to repay you,” said the nobleman. “You saved my son’s life.”

“No, I can’t accept payment for what I did,” the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer.

At that moment, the farmer’s own son came to the door of the family hovel. “Is that your son?” the nobleman asked. “Yes,” the farmer replied proudly.

“I’ll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education. If the lad is anything like his father, he’ll grow to a man you can be proud of.”

And that he did. In time, Farmer Fleming’s son graduated from Saint Mary’s Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of penicillin.

Years afterward, the nobleman’s son was stricken with pneumonia. What saved him? Penicillin. The name of the nobleman? Randolph Churchill. His son’s name? Winston Churchill.

by Author Unknown

The Eagle and the Fox

5/11/2018

The Eagle and the Fox

An eagle and a fox long had lived together as good neighbors, the eagle at the top of a high tree and the fox in a hole at the foot of it. One day, however, while the fox was away, the eagle swooped down upon the fox’s cub and carried it away to her nest.

The fox, on her return home, upbraided the eagle for this breach of friendship, and pleaded with the eagle to return the cub to her den. But the eagle, feeling sure her own brood high up in their treetop nest were safe from any possible revenge, ignored the entreaties of the cub’s mother.

Quickly running to the place where she knew an altar fire to be burning, the fox snatched a branch and hurried back to the tree. The mother eagle, who was just on the point of tearing the cub to pieces to feed to her babies, looked down and saw that the fox was going to set fire to the tree and burn it and her eaglets to ashes.

“Hold on, dear neighbor!” she screamed. “Don’t set fire to our tree. I’ll bring back your cub to you safe and sound.”

by Aesop

Moral, or lesson, of the story: Treat others as you want them to treat you.

Aesop may or may not have been an actual person. If real, he would have been born in about 620 B.C.E. He was a fabulist, or storyteller, commonly credited with a number of works known collectively as “Aesop’s Fables.” In some of the stories, animals possess human characteristics, such as the ability to speak. Most of the stories teach a moral lesson. Aesop would have passed on in about 560 B.C.E.

Growing Good Corn

4/7/2018

Growing Good Corn

This is a short story of a farmer who grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon.

One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors.

“How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the reporter asked.

“Why sir,” said the farmer, “didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn.”

He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbor’s corn also improves.

So it is with our lives. Those who choose to live in peace must help their neighbors to live in peace. Those who choose to live well must help others to live well, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.

And that is how to grow award winning corn.

The lesson for each of us is this: If we are to grow good corn, we must help our neighbors grow good corn.

by Author Unknown

The Story of Chicken Little

3/4/2018

The Story of Chicken Little

Chicken Little was in the woods one day when an acorn fell on her head. It scared her so much that she trembled all over, and she shook so hard that half of her feathers fell out. Chicken Little cried out, “Help! Help! The sky is falling! I have to go tell the king!” Then, she ran in great fright to tell the king. Along the way, she met Henny Penny.

“Where are you going, Chicken Little?” asked Henny Penny. Chicken Little said, “Oh, help! The sky is falling!” “How do you know?” asked Henny Penny. Chicken Little said, “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head!” Henny Penny said, “This is terrible, just terrible! We’d better hurry.” So they both ran as fast as they could. Soon, they met Ducky Lucky.

“Where are you going, Chicken Little and Henny Penny?” asked Ducky Lucky. “The sky is falling! The sky is falling! We’re going to tell the king!” cried out Chicken Little and Henny Penny. “How do you know?” asked Ducky Lucky. Chicken Little said, “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head.” “Oh dear, oh dear! We’d better run!” said Ducky Lucky. Then they all ran down the road as fast as they could. Soon they met Goosey Loosey walking down the roadside.

“Hello there. Where are all of you going in such a hurry?” asked Goosey Loosey. Chicken Little said, “We’re running for our lives!” Henny Penny said, “The sky is falling!” Ducky Lucky said, “And we’re running to tell the king!” “How do you know the sky is falling?” asked Goosey Loosey. Chicken Little said, “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head!” “Goodness! Then I had better run with you,” said Goosey Loosey. They all ran in great fright across a field. Before long, they met Turkey Lurkey strutting back and forth.

Turkey Lurkey said, “Hello, Chicken Little, Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky, and Goosey Loosey. Where are all of you going in such a hurry?” “Help! Help!” cried Chicken Little. “We’re running for our lives!” cried Henny Penny. “The sky is falling!” cried Ducky Lucky. “And we’re running to tell the king!” cried Goosey Loosey.

“How do you know the sky is falling?” asked Turkey Lurkey. Chicken Little said, “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head!” “Oh dear! I always knew the sky would fall someday. I’d better run with you,” said Turkey Lurkey. So they ran with all their might, until they met Foxy Loxy.

“Well, well. Where are you rushing on such a fine day?” asked Foxy Loxy. Chicken Little, Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, and Turkey Lurkey all together cried, “Help! Help! It is not a fine day at all. The sky is falling, and we are running to tell the king!” “How do you know the sky is falling?” asked Foxy Loxy. Chicken Little said, “I saw it with my own eyes, and heard it with my own ears, and part of it fell on my head!” “I see. Well then, follow me, and I’ll show you the way to the king,” said Foxy Loxy.

Foxy Loxy led Chicken Little, Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky, Goosey Loosey, and Turkey Lurkey across a field and through the woods. He showed them a hole and said, “I know a shortcut to the king. Follow me into this hole and down the tunnel.” Then Foxy Loxy led them straight into his den, and they never saw the king to tell him that the sky was falling, because Foxy Loxy gobbled them all up.

The End

by Author Unknown

“The Story of Chicken Little” is a cautionary tale about what can happen when we are unwise in choosing which leaders to follow. The first leader, Chicken Little, made an error in judgement and as a result led others into panicky behavior, and the second leader, Foxy Loxy, took advantage of everyone. The group of birds made bad choices about who would lead them, and they came to a bad end as a result. Can you think of real-life instances that are similar to “The Story of Chicken Little,” in which people choose bad leaders? How can people choose good leaders?

A Picture of True Peace

3/3/2018

A Picture of True Peace

Once there was a king who offered a prize to the artist who would paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The king looked at all the pictures, but there were only two he really liked, and he had to choose between them.

One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror, for peaceful towering mountains were all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw the picture thought it was a perfect picture of peace.

The other picture had mountains, too. However, these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky, from which rain fell, and in which lightening played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all. However, when the king looked closely, he saw that behind the waterfall a tiny bush was growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush, a mother bird had built her nest. There in the midst of the rush of angry water, the mother bird sat on her nest, in perfect peace.

Which picture won the prize? The King chose the second picture. Why? “Because,” explained the king, “peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace.”

by Author Unknown

The Stranger

3/3/2018

The Stranger

A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger who was new to our small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with our family.

The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in our family. In my young mind, each member had a special niche. My brother, Bill, five years my senior, was my example. Fran, my younger sister, gave me an opportunity to play ‘big brother’ and develop the art of teasing.

My parents were complementary instructors - Mom taught me to love the word of God, and Dad taught me to obey it. But the stranger was our storyteller. He could weave the most fascinating tales. Adventures, mysteries, and comedies were daily conversations. He could hold our whole family spellbound for hours each evening. If I wanted to know about politics, history, or science, he knew it all. He knew about the past, understood the present, and seemingly could predict the future. The pictures he could draw were so life-like that I would often laugh or cry as I watched. He was a friend to the whole family. He took Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game. He was always encouraging us to see movies and he even made arrangements to introduce us to several movie stars. My brother and I were deeply impressed by John Wayne in particular.

The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn’t seem to mind - but sometime Mom would quietly get up while the rest of us were enthralled with one of his stories of faraway places and go to her room, read her Bible and pray. I wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would leave.

You see, my dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But this stranger never quite felt the obligation to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our house - not from us, from our friends, or adults. Our longtime visitor, however, used occasional four-letter words that burned my ears and made Dad squirm. To my knowledge, the stranger was never confronted.

My dad was a teetotaler who didn’t permit alcohol in his home - not even for cooking. But the stranger felt like we needed exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He offered us beer and other alcoholic beverages often. He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

He talked freely (probably much too freely) about other people. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I know now that my early concepts of the man-woman relationship were influenced by the stranger.

As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the stranger did not influence us more. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents. Yet he was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than thirty years have passed since the stranger moved in with the young family on Morningside Drive.

He is not nearly so intriguing to my Dad as he was in those early years. But if I were to walk into my parents’ den today, you would still see him sitting in a corner, waiting for someone to listen to him or watch him draw his pictures.

His name? We always just called him television.

by Author Unknown

How are cell phones, computers, video game devices, tablets, and radios similar to the stranger in the story?

As Good as His Bond

3/3/2018

As Good as His Bond

I remember that a good many years ago, when I was a boy, my father, who was a stonemason, did some work for a man named John Haws. When the work was completed, John Haws said he would pay for it on a certain day. It was late in the fall when the work was done, and when the day came on which Mr. Haws had said he would pay for it, a fearful storm of sleet and snow and wind raged from morning until night. We lived nine miles from the Haws’ home, and the road was a very bad one even in good weather. I remember that my father had said at breakfast, “Well, I guess that we shall not see anything of John Haws today. It will not make any difference if he does not come, as I am not in urgent need of the money he owes me. It will make no difference if it is not paid for a month.”

But about noon, Mr. Haws appeared at our door, almost frozen, and covered with sleet and snow.

“Why, John Haws!” exclaimed my father, when he opened the door, and saw who it was that had knocked. “I had not the least idea that you would try to ride all the way out here in this fearful storm.”

“Did I not say that I would come?” asked John Haws abruptly.

“Oh, yes; but I did not regard it as a promise so binding that you must fulfil it on a day like this!”

“Any promise that I make is binding, regardless of wind and weather. I said that I would pay the money today, and I am here to keep my word.”

“But it is only a small sum, and I do not really need it so urgently.”

“I need to keep my word. If the sum had been but ten cents, and you were a millionaire, and I had said that I could pay it today, I would be here to pay it if I had been compelled to ride fifty miles.”

Do you wonder that it was often said of John Haws that his word was as good as his bond? He was as truthful as he was honest. I remember that a neighbor of ours stopped at our house one day on his way home from the town. He had an almost incredible story to tell about a certain matter, and my father said, “Why, it hardly seems possible that such a thing can be true.”

“John Haws told me about it.”

“Oh, then it is true!”

“Yes, or John Haws never would have told it.”

It is a fine thing to have a reputation like that. It is worth more than much worldly glory and honor when such are combined with the distrust of the people. There are men in high positions, with all that wealth can buy at their command, who are much poorer than humble John Haws, because their word is of no value, and they have none of that high sense of honor that glorifies the humblest life.

by Author Unknown

A Royal Lesson

3/3/2018

A Royal Lesson

Once upon a time long ago, there was a king who ruled a country. One day, he went for a trip to some distant places in the land. When he returned home to his castle, he complained that his feet were very painful, because it was the first time he had gone on such a long trip, and the roads that he walked were dirty, rough, and stony. He ordered his subjects to cover every road of the country with leather. Doing so would have required millions of cattle hides, and would have cost a tremendous amount of gold, more gold than was in the entire kingdom. One of the king’s servants said to the king, “Why spend a huge amount of gold on covering the roads with leather? Why not cover just your feet in leather, for a small amount of gold?” The king was surprised by the idea, but he agreed, and so he had ‘shoes’ made for himself.

The lesson of the story is that if you want to make the world a better place, start with yourself.

by Author Unknown

Rich in Wolves

3/3/2018

Rich in Wolves

A good positive attitude can truly change the way you approach life and your future. Let me illustrate with a short story.

A few years ago, a wildlife organization out west offered a bounty of $5,000 for captured wolves.

Two friends, Sam and Jed, decided to make their fortune. Day and night, they scoured the mountains and forests looking for their valuable prey. Exhausted one night, after searching for many days with no luck, they fell asleep dreaming of their potential fortune.

Suddenly, Sam woke up a bit startled, and saw they were surrounded by a huge pack of nearly 70 wolves with searing black eyes, and bared teeth. Low growls rumbled from their throats.

He slowly reached over and nudged his friend and said “Jed, wake up.” “I think we’re rich!”

Sam had a positive attitude. I hope you do, too.

by Author Unknown

The Music of the Bells

3/3/2018

The Music of the Bells

On a pedestal in one of the famous old churches of Europe is a statue of a nobleman with a string of bells about his waist. The church was erected centuries before America was discovered, and among the many legends woven into its history, one of the most interesting is the one of the nobleman’s statue. An orphaned brother and sister, the only surviving members of a noble and very wealthy family, owned an immense section of the country and ruled the lives of the peasants of that territory.

The sister was a beautiful character, amiable, charming, and loved by all. The brother was a veritable autocrat, domineering, and egotistical. Whenever anyone antagonized him, he would fly into a violent rage, and if any unfortunate serf dared to disobey him, or interfere with his pleasure, he would strike him down.

The sister, chagrinned at her brother’s conduct, sought to cure him of his annoying weaknesses. Without telling him of her purpose, she suggested that together they build a great church. But each was to erect half of the church independent of the other.

The vanity of the undertaking appealed to the brother, and construction was started. In time, the brother discovered that his sister was making faster progress. The sister told him that this was because he was always quarreling with his workmen. The sister asked him to let her tie a string of bells about him. The bells, she said, would help to hasten the building, because, as he approached the men, they would hear jingling and hasten to work, thus saving much time otherwise lost.

The brother thought it was a novel idea. When he heard the jingle of the bells it was like sweet music in his ears, and it soothed his temper. And when he approached the men, he found everyone busily at work. This also pleased him. Finding them diligent, he praised and encouraged them, and they did better work. Before many days, he was actually popular with his men.

Spurred by a newborn spirit of pride in their work, the men began to vie with their fellows on the sister’s side of the church, and finally finished their half first, to the joy of both brother and sister.

One day, long after the church was finished, the sister revealed to her brother the innocent deception she had played on him to cure him of his evil disposition. The nobleman was so impressed with the lesson he had learned that he had a statue of himself with the bells made, to remind him, and other like him, of the power of goodwill, praise, and encouragement in dealing with others.

by Author Unknown

What is the moral of the story?

The Pendulum

2/26/2018

The Pendulum

There was once a pendulum waiting to be fixed on a new clock. It began to calculate how long it would be before the big wheels were worn out and its work was done. It would be expected to tick night and day, so many times a minute, sixty times that every hour, and twenty-four times that every day and three hundred and sixty-five times that every year. It was awful! Quite a row of figures, enough to stagger you! Millions of ticks! “I can never do it,” said the poor pendulum. But the clockmaster encouraged it. “You can do one tick at a time?” he said. “Oh, yes,” the pendulum could do that. “Well,” he said, “that is all that will be required of you.” So the pendulum went to work, steadily ticking, one tick at a time, and it is ticking yet, quite cheerfully.

by Dwight Lyman Moody

Dwight Lyman Moody, also known as D. L. Moody, was born on 5 February 1837 in Northfield, Massachusetts, United States of America. He was a Christian evangelist and a publisher, connected with the Holiness Movement. He is known as the founder of the Moody Church, Northfield School, and Mount Hermon School in Massachusetts, as well as the Moody Bible Institute and Moody Publishers. Dwight Lyman Moody passed on at 62 years of age on 22 December 1899 in Northfield, Massachusetts, United States of America.

How We Treat Our Elderly

2/26/2018

How We Treat Our Elderly

An old man was thought to be eating too much food, especially since he was too frail to work and earn his keep. Because the grandfather had become a burden, the head of the household, his son, was determined to be rid of him. He put him in a wheelbarrow, and then started up a mountain. His little eight-year-old grandson went along. He was full of questions. His father explained that grandfather was old and useless and the only thing to do was to take him up to the mountain and leave him there. Then the grandson had a brilliant idea. “I’m glad you brought me along, father, because when you’re old, I’ll know where to take you.”

The moral of the story is that we should be kind to the elderly, because one day, we will be elderly ourselves, and we may very well be treated according to the example we set when we were younger.

by Author Unknown

The Wolves Within

2/26/2018

The Wolves Within

An old Grandfather said to his grandson, who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice . . . “Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have felt great hate for those who have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times. It is as if there are two wolves inside me; one is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way. But . . . the other wolf . . . ah! The littlest thing will send him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all of the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing. Sometimes it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit.” The boy looked intently into his Grandfather’s eyes and asked, “Which one wins, Grandfather?” The Grandfather smiled and quietly said, “The one I feed.”

by Author Unknown: Native American tale told many times around the Sacred Fire

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