Saturday, June 2, 2012

Good Read: THE WOODEN BOWL (Story)

I was browsing the net when I bumped into this story.  And I felt I need to share it. Incidentally, Father's Day is near, and somehow, this story is about a father and his family.

For all sons and daughters, hope this story will touch your hearts. Have a good read.

Image credit:


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, 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 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.


Love your mothers and fathers and even the unlovable.
It is easiest to love when everything is all right.
It is hardest to love when everything has gone wrong.

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