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 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,
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.
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. For some reason,
neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was
dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
On a
positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens or how
bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better
tomorrow.
