Classic Stories
Weakness is Strength
Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses! Turning our weaknesses into strengths makes us unbeatable. This is an inspiring story of a 12-year-old boy Kim who defeated his weakness, by unknowingly making it his strength.
Poor Kim lost his left hand in a terrible accident. His parents could not console him. To cheer him up, his father made him join a Judo school. As the boy always wanted to learn Judo, his father thought that this would make him happy.
Everyone wondered how a single armed boy could learn Judo. However, the master happily enrolled him. He trained in Judo for about 8 months. He practiced nothing but a single stroke. He trained for all 8 months in mastering a single stroke. The boy was surprised and sometimes annoyed as his master taught him only one stroke.
Yet, he said nothing. The boy mastered the stroke and grew as nobody could excel in doing that particular stroke. The boy was picked by the master to compete in the national level Judo championship tournament.
Everyone made fun of Kim and the master. How a one-handed boy could win a national championship? Even the boy was not sure about why his master chose him.
Surprising to other's taunting, Kim easily defeated his six contenders with his single stroke. He gradually moved to semi-finals. He struggled a bit in the semi-finals and won the match.
Needless to say, it surprised everyone. The final match began. The opponent was very strong and the boy could not counterattack him. The referee decided to halt the match, as the opponent could harm Kim severely. He announced a break and discussed with Kim's master to stop the match and declare the opponent as the champion of the year. Even Kim was happy that he advanced very much and happily said yes! However, his master did not want him to quit the match. He asked Kim to continue the match. Of course, with a huge effort, Kim won the match and the title. He had become the champion!
Kim was so surprised how he won the competition with just a single stroke. His master told him,'My dear boy, you learned the most difficult stroke in Judo that very few can master to perfection. If your opponent wants to beat you and prevent you from using the stroke, they should hold your left hand. This is the secret behind your victory!'
If the boy turned his weakness, the loss of his left hand to a massive success, why can't we?
The Lazy Farmer
Sinha, the farmer was a very lazy man. He had fertile lands, but because of his laziness, he cultivated crops only in a part of his land.
One night, it rained heavily and the roads turned muddy. Sinha was very happy that it had rained. He was to water the crops the next day. However, because of the heavy rain, he did not have to water them as the crops got sufficient water. However, he wanted to assess the status of his fields after the rain.
He also had two loads of hay to be sold at the market. Since the roads were muddy, he stayed at home. He decided to take a visit after two days, by which time, he hoped that the roads would be clean.
However, even after two days, the roads were still slightly muddy. Nevertheless, Sinha went to the market on a cart with horses. The road to the market was fairly good and he sold the hay. Then he took the country road and rode the cart towards his fields. But, the road was uneven and muddy with stagnant water.
Sinha drove very slowly to avoid getting dirty. Unfortunately, for Sinha, one wheel of the cart sank into the mire. He tried hard to move the cart and even pushed the horses to do so. The more he tried, the deeper the wheels sank into the mire.
He got down from the cart to look at the sunken wheel and searched all around for any help. However, help was hard to find, as people rarely took the country road, and all of them preferred the market road, which was much better.
Sinha started to curse himself for taking the bad road. Suddenly dark clouds appeared in the sky and it appeared that it was going to rain. Sinha lost his temper and started screaming, 'Hell, there is no one to help me'".
Suddenly, he heard a booming voice from the sky, "Sinha, no one will help you unless you try to pull the wheel out by yourself.
Sinha then realized that he had done nothing to pull out the wheel from the mire. Sinha then removed the horses that were tied to the cart. He bent down and tried to pull out the wheel. After a few minutes of struggle, he gradually lifted the wheel from the mire. Supporting the cart with a shoulder, he pulled the wheel out. It was then Sinha understood that he succeeded, because he had tried. After that incident, Sinha realized his folly and was a changed man.
The Selfish Giant
Long ago, there was an exquisite garden which not only had lively trees, but also had a collection of flowers that gave out a wonderful fragrance. The birds that used to regularly visit the garden sang the most melodious songs. It was truly a lovely garden.
There were some children who regularly played in this beautiful garden. It was their play area, where they used to spend some lovely afternoons after school and the even more time during holidays. The birds that lived in this magnificent garden, used to sing melodious tunes, which even made the kids stop their games and listen to them.
However, there was a truth that no one knew, not until the day when a giant, returned one day. The garden, in fact, belonged to the giant who had gone away for a long time, and no one knew about him. At times the little ones used to talk among themselves, wishing that the owner never returned.
One day, the kid's fears came true as the owner of the garden returned.
The owner, a big fat giant, came back stamping his feet with a loud thud. The children playing in the garden felt themselves being lifted from the ground and back as the sound got stronger.
When the giant saw kids playing in his garden, he became very angry and then built a huge wall all around it and put a notice board, which said that any trespasser will be punished.
The selfish giant had closed the door on the kids. They would come back from school, and would talk about the garden. The children were sad and wished that the giant had never returned.
Then spring came, beautiful flowers bloomed everywhere. An array of colors was spread all over the country, but what was the garden like, no one could see.
The reality was that spring did not visit the garden this time. It was still winter in the selfish giants' garden. The trees had forgotten to blossom and the birds were in no mood to sing. Even the little flowers were so annoyed with the sign to ban children from coming in, that they slipped back into the ground, as they were as sad as they could be.
The only ones who were happy were snow and frost. Having the whole space to them, both were happy to be up in spring. They thought that spring had overlooked this garden, and considered themselves as the undisputed master of the now "frozen" garden.
The snow had painted everything white and the frost had turned all the trees silver. Both rulers of this white world now invited the north wind, who came roaring in furs and moaned over the garden day in and day out. He roared so much that he blew all the chimney- pots down. And, if this was not enough, one day the north wind had an idea. Since we are having so much fun here, is it not a good idea that we invite hail.
Then came Hail, dressed in grey with icy cold breadth. Every day for hours, it rattled on the roof on the roof of the castle, until most of the slates on the roof were broken. He ran and ran, around the garden like the fastest roller coaster ride, casting havoc on the once beautiful garden.
One day the giant heard lovely music while lying on his bed. He thought that it must be some of the king's musicians, who were passing by the garden.
However, as the giant went towards the window, he saw a bird singing. He thought that spring had finally arrived and even a little bird's song, felt like the most melodious music in the world to him.
The north wind stopped dancing, the hail stopped roaring, and a deliciously sweet perfume came to him through the open window.
The giant jumped out of his bed and looked out of the window, but what did he see?
He saw the most beautiful sight; a few children had come in through a small hole in the gardens wall.
The children were on every tree, the trees were happy that they covered themselves with flowers.
The grass was happy and so were the flowers, each one of them was waiting for the kids to come back and here they were laughing with glee at the sight of innocent children playing around the garden. The birds tweeted, as they had never done before.
However, in a corner of the garden, there was a little boy, who could not reach the branches of a tree.
The tree was still covered in snow and frost and hail was still roaring around it. The tree bent its branches to help the boy climb up, but to no avail. The child was too tiny to do so himself.
The giant felt guilty about his selfish behavior, and was very sorry for what he had done. I should have let the children play in my garden, he thought to himself. The giant was indeed very sorry and he decided to help the small boy.
He then proclaimed, "From now on the garden will be the children's playground forever and ever, and I will knock down the walls of my garden, and I'll do that for sure."
The giant slowly went down stairs, softly opened the door, and slowly went into the garden.
All the children ran away except for the one who was crying, he could not see the garden because of his tears. The giant picked the boy up and placed him on a branch of the tree. The flowers and birds came back and so did the other children, when they saw the giant being kind to the boy. The boy hugged the giant and kissed him.
From that day on, the giant played with all the children every day, until he grew old and week, that was when he confined himself in his room and used to watch the children play.
The boy, who had kissed him, the giants' first friend, never came back and he longed for him to come. He used to ask the other children about him, but they had the faintest clue as to who he was and where he lived.
One winter morning, the giant was getting ready, he saw the most wonderful sight from the window, the boy was standing in the farthest corner of the garden, the same boy the giant loved the most. The tree above the boy had blossoms on it and silver fruits hung from the tree.
The giant ran towards the boy and hugged him, he saw blood in his palms, the giant was angry because the boy was hurt. The giant asked the boy to name the person who hurt him and that he shall punish him.
The boy calmed him down and asked him not to worry, as they were wounds of love. An unusual calmness came on the giants' face.
The little boy then took his hand and told the giant he was taking him to the garden of paradise.
Later, that afternoon, when the children came to play in the garden, they saw the giant lying on the ground with a calm smile on his face. On closer inspection, they realized that he was dead, his body covered with white flowers.
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
A long time ago, there lived four little rabbits, with fancy names: Flopsy, Cotton-tail, Peter and Mopsy. They lived under a very big fir tree, in a sand-bank.
One day, old Mrs. Rabbit called the four little rabbits for a little talk. "Listen to me," she said, "I know that you like to run and play all around the place, but I advise you not to go to Mr. McGregor's garden. Do you know why?"
Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail and Peter shook their heads.
"Your father was killed in Mr. McGregor's garden. Mrs. McGregor put him in a pie," mother rabbit said solemnly.
The four little rabbits looked as though they understood their mother's message.
"Alright then, go and play, but don't get into trouble. I have to go out now," mother rabbit said. She took her umbrella and her basket, and set out to the baker's. She had to buy a few currant buns and a loaf of brown bread.
Meanwhile, the four little bunnies, left on their own, began exploring their neighbourhood. Mopsy, Flopsy and Cotton-tail, being good bunnies, hopped down the lane to pick some blackberries. However, Peter, being very naughty, did exactly what was forbidden: He ran to Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed under the gate. Not troubled by any thoughts of danger, he ate up some lettuce, and then some beans. Next came the radishes. Then, feeling a bit sick in his stomach, he looked for some parsley.
But, as he foraged for parsley, he had the misfortune of coming face to face with none other than Mr.McGregor himself, who had been planting out young cabbages. Presently, he ran after Peter waving his rake, and screaming, "Stop thief!"
Peter was terribly frightened and ran all over the garden looking for an exit. In his panic, he had forgotten where the gate was. Now, it should be said that he had been wearing shoes, and he lost both his shoes among the vegetables while he was running for his life. However, after losing his shoes, he ran on all four legs and went faster, but unfortunately, ran into a gooseberry net. He was wearing a blue jacket with large brass buttons, and the buttons got caught in the net.
Peter lost all hope of escaping Mr. McGregor's wrath, and began sobbing uncontrollably. Some sparrows overheard the bunny's sobs and flew to him. They urged him to try to escape and not to give up. In the meanwhile, Mr.McGregor approached Peter with a sieve, which he wanted to catch Peter with, but Peter wriggled out, leaving his jacket behind him.
Now free of his shoes and jacket, Peter scurried at full speed into the toolshed and jumped into a can. It would have saved him, had it not been full of water.
Meanwhile, Mr. McGregor, being quite sure of finding Peter in the toolshed, began to look for him there in all possible hiding places. Most unfortunately, right at that moment Peter sneezed 'Kertyschoo!'
Mr. McGregor was soon upon him, but Peter managed to jump out of the window, which was too small for the big man to squeeze through.
Therefore, Mr. McGregor stopped his chase of Peter, having been tired of so much running around. He went back to his work.
Peter sat down and took a rest. He was out of breath, and was still trembling from fright. He still had no idea which way to go to escape the place. He was also very wet, having been in the can full of water. He ventured out of his hiding place and began to wander about, and met a mouse and a cat. Both did not help in any way. Anyway, he did not trust the cat. He had heard enough about cats from his cousin Benjamin Bunny.
He tried going back to the toolshed, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow. He saw Mr.McGregor hoeing onions. Luckily his back was turned towards Peter. Then, all of a sudden, Peter saw the gate beyond him!
So he climbed down very quietly from the wheelbarrow, and ran as fast as he could to the gate, slipped under it, and was safe at last outside the garden.
Meanwhile, Mr.McGregor found Peter's jacket and shoes, and decided that they would be best for a scare-crow to scare off the birds.
Peter, safe outside the garden, did not stop running until he reached home under the big fir tree. He was so tired that he flopped down on the floor and closed his eyes. His mother was busy cooking, and wondered what he had done with his shoes and jacket. It was the second pair of shoes and jacket that Peter had lost in a fortnight!
Later she found that, well, Peter was not so fine, and had a flu. But Peter did not utter a word about his adventures. His mother put him to bed, made some chamomile tea and gave him a dose of it with the admonition "one table-spoonful to be taken at bed time!"
Mopsy, Flopsy and Cotton-tail, who had a significantly less exciting time than Peter, were fed with milk, bread and strawberries for supper.
Two Brave Women
Karan Singh was all set to go to the fields. Among the other things he carried with his agricultural tools, were his sword and a gun. A merchant, who always noticed this, could not but help satisfy his curiosity. One day as Karan set out to go the fields, the merchant asked him why he always carried his weapons along with his other agricultural tools.
Karan Singh went to his shop and told him that even if he told him the reason, he might not understand it. Hence, he advised him to concentrate on his shop's accounts, rather than focusing on matters that did not concern him. He also added that it was mainly because of Dadua, and that the villagers should be prepared when Dadua attacks. Hence, it was wise to always carry the weapons.
The merchant had the least idea who Dadua was, and asked him, "Who is Dadua, and what does he want from us. Are there so many dacoits near our village?"
Karan understood that the merchant was getting apprehensive. It was understandable, because the dacoits always looted the merchants first, because they were also the local moneylenders. In order to pacify the merchant, he sat down and told him the story of Dadua, the famous dacoit.
In those days, might was right and the sword belonged to those who used it with honor. Accordingly, the sword settled all quarrels. The village, where Karan Singh and his brother Ram Singh stayed was called Pachegaon. In addition, not too far from this place was the neighboring village of Vala. A Thakur Sahib, a very powerful man, who had a large army of soldiers, ruled the neighboring village.
The village of Pachegaon mostly consisted of Rajput warriors, who were united and stopped all attacks from the Thakur. Finally, the Thakur realized that he could not beat the Rajputs. Therefore, he turned to the dacoit, Dadua for help. He promised to give one whole village in his territory, if the dacoit could capture the particular village of Pachegaon.
Dadua, with the help of Thakur's soldiers tried many times to capture the village of Pachegaon, but he was unsuccessful. Each time, there was much bloodshed, but Dadua could not capture the village. He knew that the people were united and the only way he could possibly beat them was to break that unity. Their loyalty to each other was so great, that it was like a fortress against any enemy. Dadua knew that the only way that he could possibly get in was during the time, when the warriors were working in the fields or hunting.
One early winter morning, when the dacoits were all sitting around the fire and smoking their hookahs, a messenger came and told them it was harvest-time at Pachegaon. It was likely that all men at the village would be at the fields, and only the women and children would be at home. They knew that this was the ideal time to attack. Dadua collected a few men and getting on their horse, they rode to the village.
The villagers were always ready to fight the dacoits. Even the women were prepared. A few of them also kept a sword next to their oven, where they made their bread. Even the children played dacoits and soldiers amongst themselves.
By the time, the dacoits reached the village, it was already mid-morning. They looked around and envied the villagers. The fields were rich yellow and ripe for harvest. There was plenty of vegetables and dairy stock around. For a moment, Dadua thought of settling down and becoming a farmer.
Meanwhile, Vama, and Mala, the wives of Karan Singh and his brother Ram Singh were busy cooking the afternoon meal in the kitchen. They were talking to themselves, and suddenly, Vama said to Mala, "I feel very restless today. All the men are in the fields and only the women, children and old men are left in the village. What if the dacoits attack the village today?"
Mala asked Vama not to worry and said, "They will not come, and even if they do, we have our sticks and swords."
Mala went to the next room, brought out her sword, and pulled it out of the scabbard. She started brandishing it and said, "Who knows, I might need this today."
When the lunch was ready, then tied it into bundles, and set out for the fields. The men saw the women coming and they stopped working. They gave their bullocks some grass to eat and proceeded to wash themselves in the stream. Then, they all sat under the tree and began to eat.
Suddenly, from far, the women saw in a cloud of dust, horsemen fast approaching. Mala said, "This must be Dadua's men. He must have got word that the village is unguarded today."
The men got up, when they realized it was Dadua and his men. Soon, a fierce battle began and in the ensuing battle, Karan Singh was badly wounded. Soon his brother was also shot dead. Both Vama and Mala came to their husband's side. Karan Singh told them, "You are Rajput women. Don't allow them to pass this field."
Vama, Mala and the other Rajput women began throwing stones at the horses. The horses began prancing, when the shower of stones began to hit them. The horses soon threw the riders off balance. The dacoits picked their swords, and ran towards the women, who were ready with their swords.
However hard they tried, the dacoits were unable to beat Vama, Mala, and the other few women. Clearly, the women were outnumbered, but the dacoits were no match for them. They asked Dadua, whether they could shoot them, just like they shot Karan and Ram Singh.
Dadua shouted at them, and said it was even shameful to think that. The fight went on and soon only four of the twelve dacoits were remaining, while Vama and Mala were still fighting hard. They were slightly injured but showed no signs of stopping.
Finally, Dadua decided to leave and return another day, now that the main men were dead. Besides, the other farmers, hearing the sound of guns had also reached the scene. All they saw was these two women, all bloodied, brandishing swords and screaming, "Come back and fight."
The farmers' quickly attended to the wounds of the women and pacified them. Then they gave the dead men a hero's burial, and returned to the village.
The Brave Little Boy
This is a short story from India, originally written by the English Author, Norah Burke, during her stay in India during the early twentieth century.
Kunal, Veer Singh's little brother lay in the hut, burning with fever and shooting pain in his stomach that was getting worse by the minute.
Veer Singh was only about 11 years old, but was a happy and cheerful lad. He was a child of the jungle and his brother was about six years younger to him. He had other brothers and sisters, who unfortunately had died due to cholera or malaria.
His mother brought some hot water, dipped some towels inside, and placed it on Kunal's stomach to reduce the pain. Veer Singh could see that she was in great pain and fear of losing another child, but she was trying hard not to show it.
However, the towels were of no use. Veer Singh mother said that he ought to be carried to the nearest hospital. Veer Singh's mother knew that Kunal was critical, and needed medical attention at the earliest.
The people in the village considered that the hospital was the last resort, and those who were sent there, rarely returned alive.
Veer Singh told his mother that he would go and call his father, who was out hunting for food. His mother asked him to stay back, as it would take days to find him.
Veer Singh's father was well known far and wide as Veer Singh Bahadur or Veer Singh the Brave. He was a famous hunter and hence the title. He had survived two tiger attacks and saved a comrade from a tiger attack. He had big scars on his back, head, and shoulders, where claws had opened his flesh. Whenever there was a hunting expedition in the village, people wanted Veer Singh Bahadur to be with them. His mere presence gave them tremendous amount of confidence and courage.
Now he, along with the other strong men from the village were in an expedition. It was unlikely that Veer Singh would find someone to help him to take Kunal to the hospital.
Kunal lay on the ground, crying in pain and Veer Singh knew that something had to be done immediately. Otherwise, he might lose another brother.
Veer Singh told his mother, "There are no men in the village, and I will take Kunal to the hospital."
His mother knew there was no other choice, as she had to stay behind and look after the cattle and fields. Otherwise, they would all starve. His mother took a piece of garment and made a sling for Veer Singh, in which he could carry his brother to the hospital.
His mother said with tears, "You may never get there. Go slowly and be brave." She gave him some food and water to have on the way. Veer Singh lifted Kunal and his mother helped put the sling on his back, and he set off in the orange glow of the evening.
Veer Singh slowly started his journey. He was unsure, whether he would ever reach the hospital, given Kunal's weight. So high was Kunal's temperature, that he could feel the heat through the sling.
The hospital was about 50 miles away, and Veer Singh hoped to take a shortcut through the forest and wade through two rivers. This might reduce the distance by half. He also hoped that he might get a lift along the way in a bullock cart.
He was afraid to cross the forest. It was dark, and the animals of prey would be searching for food. Night fell and there was a full moon that night. He saw bear and tiger tracks and avoided them, and proceeded carefully. He was afraid and started walking fast.
Finally, he nearly reached the end of the forest, and he just couldn't go further. He put the sling and lied down beneath a tree. His muscles shrank back to his natural position and he felt a piercing pain. He thought he would rest for a few minutes and he lay down. Soon he was fast asleep.
Suddenly he woke up with fright. He looked around to see a herd of elephants at the riverside. However, they had not seen him. There were bull and cow elephants along with their babies. Although Veer Singh was petrified, he knew he could not run with Kunal's weight. All he could do was to keep quiet and pray.
Finally, the elephants left and Veer Singh quickly crossed the river on a week bridge built from bamboo poles. He reached the other side and saw there were fresh tiger footprints. Yet, he still plodded. He cried in pain, but he did not stop. Towards midnight, he reached the second bridge.
He looked for the bridge, but it had been washed away by a flash flood. He could feel the rivers sound and sound of trees churning. He sat down and wondered about how he would he cross this river.
Kunal asked for some water, and Veer Singh brought some cold water from the river. Kunal wanted more as he was thirsty. Finally, Kunal went to sleep.
Veer Singh lifted him and put him on top off his head. With the help of a bamboo pole, he began to cross the river. The deluge deafened and bruised him, yet he kept moving on. However, despite that he kept Kunal on top of his head and above the water. He finally, reached the other side, fell down on the grass, very exhausted, and drained of any energy.
He was wet and it was icy cold. Yet, Veer Singh kept moving on.
Suddenly, he saw people, and he passed out.
The next thing he knew was that he was in a bullock-cart, and then a truck.
Finally, they reached the hospital. The hospital staff and the people around could not believe that he had carried the little boy for over 50 miles.
He felt shy, when they started calling him Veer Singh Bahadur.
The Doctor came and asked for Veer Singh Bahadur and Veer Singh replied, "My father is not here."
The Doctor smiled and asked him, "Are you the little boy who carried his brother for over 50 miles?"
Veer Singh replied, "Yes."
The Doctor then said, "You are not Veer Singh, but Veer Singh Bahadur. Come in and see your brother. He will live."
Challenges
Do you know the favorite food of Japanese? They love Sushi! Sushi is nothing but raw fish sliced in different shapes and sizes.
Of course, fresh produces are tasty aren't they? Japanese loved to eat the fresh fish. The market for fresh fish in Japan grew so big that fishermen earned a good deal in catching fresh fish.
Weeks and months passed by! The fishermen were unable to get fresh fish quickly. They took their boats to longer distance in the sea. The fishing boats became big to feed the fish lovers and the fishermen moved farther and farther to bring the fresh fish. Since they traveled for many days to get the fish, it took more days for the fishermen to return home. The fish lost its freshness, and Japanese consumers didn't like the taste of fish that wasn't fresh.
The fish companies tried to solve the problem and installed freezers to keep the fish fresh. They installed the freezers in the boats to store the fish fresh. Unfortunately, the frozen fish couldn't meet the flavor profile of the Japanese who always loved to eat the fish fresh.
Of course, the flavor of fresh foods and frozen foods differ a lot!
Next, the fishing companies installed large fish tanks in the boat. Soon after the fishermen caught the fish, they were put in the fish tanks and kept alive. The fish stuffed in the tanks, as they thrashed around for a while and got tired and dull in the tanks. Furthermore, a few fish died in the tanks, which ruined the other fish too!
The fishing industry experienced a big crisis! However, they found a solution to this problem. Now, Japanese could enjoy the fresh fish now. What happened?
The fishing companies put the caught fish directly into the fish tanks installed on the boats. However, they made a small change. They also included a small shark in the fish tank. This kept the fish very active and made them stay fresh!
Challenges are important to achieve many things!
Delicacy of Feeling
THE value of a charitable deed depends entirely upon the way it is done. Remember, the poor are always sensitive. Said a poor woman: "If anyone gives me anything and then tells of it, I've paid for it" Yes, paid for it in shame and distress more than the gift was worth. Said a lady at her gate one day: "That's Mrs. Dean; I know it's her by her dress. I gave it to her."
Once one man said to another, " I gave you this work because you were poor and I thought you'd be glad to get it." Why did he remind the man of his distress, already hard to bear? It would have sounded much better if he had said: " It is very handy getting this work done so near home. I am glad you could do it for me." The workman would have thought: "I like to work for him, his manners are so pleasant."
Now judge which is nicest. A lady was having the Primary Association girls at her house to make a quilt for a donation to some worthy object. One girl whispered: "My sister and I are the only ones here without white aprons." She did not know it was overheard till after dinner, when the hostess appeared from an inner room and whispered to her, "Now you're not the only ones with gingham aprons on." I heard the whisper, glanced at the two faces, and lovelier smiles I never saw. They were from the hearts of sympathy and appreciation.
How a Boy Went Fishing
ON the morning of Decoration-day, Harry declined attending the celebration with the family, saying that he preferred to go fishing, "lots of other fellows were going." So Harry gathered up his fishing outfit, his gun, dinner pail, matches, and an umbrella for sultry sun or summer shower, and set them outside the door while he hunted for a few angleworms.
The parents bade him good-by, to take care of himself, and not go too far up the canyon, for the walk home after pleasure is over is always a longer one than that of going.
When the parents and two youngest ones returned from the celebration that afternoon, the good house- keeper had a nice, plain dinner ready; the two children left in her care were asleep after their dinner, and the house seemed peaceful and cool after the long ride and exercises in the open air.
Just before lamp-light, Harry came home, all his trim outfit looking very dusty and out of order; the umbrella was broken, the dinner pail dented and cover lost, and his clothing both torn and dirty. But Harry proudly showed a trout that he had brought home for mother's own supper no one else must ask for a taste or even accept a proffered portion, or cast admiring glances that way. The trout was about five inches long and had a peculiar, ragged appearance. "You see," explained Harry, "the line got tangled after he swallowed the bait, and I shot him for fear he'd get away." " There was no danger of that," said Harry's father. The proud son now expressed a de- termination to. make a fire and cook the trout. " O Harry, don't make a fire to-night and heat the house; the trout will do for breakfast ! " " Mother, the house-keeper might eat it herself; little bites; trout is tempting." "No, Harry, she wouldn't do that." "Well, then, mother, I'll dig a hole in the garden and bury the fish to keep it cool all night." "Very well," said she, and Harry spent half an hour in the garden, then came in satisfied with the labors of the day. Throwing himself upon the lounge, he recounted the rambles he had made, how encumbered he had been with so much luggage, the loss of his ramrod, then the theft of his dinner by a hungry dog, and finally how blistered his feet were with so much walking ; but he had enjoyed himself. Suddenly he asked, " Do you suppose cats or dogs could burrow under that box?" He rose, looked out of the window and spied a neighbor's dog sniffing at the fresh earth. That roused him thoroughly and he forgot that he was tired. The dog was chased for a block away; the trout was dug up, the protecting wrappers of paper, cloth, and leaves were removed, a hot fire kindled, and the trout put into the oven. " Baked trout, mother, is a delicacy enjoyed by epicures." "Thank you, Harry, but I'm afraid I can't eat it to-night." "Yes you can, I want you to know what a real fresh brook trout tastes like. I'll practice on my flute while it bakes, and call you when it is done. You go walk in the garden." She had not the heart "to refuse his pleading smile, and, glad also to get out of the warm kitchen, she strayed into the front yard, and, oh, what a sight met her gaze ! Geraniums, verbenas, and over there the strawberry bed, turned upside down ! Holes and mounds of earth, and, lying crossways of a pansy bed, a hoe and long- handled shovel. "What does it mean?" she asked the housekeeper, who was just returning from an errand up town. " He said it was searching for angle- worms, ma'am." Harry's mother re-entered the house after a serious conflict with self, whether to scold or not to scold, and there was he upon the lounge fast asleep after the weariness of the day. She went to the oven ; the trout was done like a chip.
When Harry was awakened for bed-time, he said : " Mother, I enjoyed your having that trout more than though I had eaten it myself." " I know it, my son, and now won't you eat some raspberry pie and sweet milk, for I am sure you must be faint?" " Faint! I'm starved! Mother, I couldn't love you more if you were an angel ! " Harry concluded this declaration with a rapturous hug, and turned with a boy's own appetite to his tempting meal.
An Hour with the Aged
AT a time when I had a nice Sunday-school class, of which I was very fond, there was an aged and very eccentric old lady who was quite particular in the selection of her acquaintances. For some reason of her own, she favored me with her friendship, and it became my custom to start so early to Sunday-school that I could spend an hour with her. Her room was very odd to look at ; she had a fancy for putting almost everything into a separate little bag. The hair-brush, coarse and fine combs, were each suspended in a bag just exactly large enough. Even the penholder stuck out of the top of a slender bag that just fitted it. Would you imagine a thimble-bag also? It was a fact. It took me several visits to become accustomed to her oddity. " It was partly on account of the dust, and partly a habit of order," she said. I found out through her kindness of heart that some of these calico bags held a bunch of grapes and an apple each. "I've got grandchildren," she explained.
She also had a Bible so very old that the pages were yellow, and it was so large it was awkward to hold. Many a pleasant talk we had, she explaining to me passages that were obscure. How I loved to read the writings of Esdras in the Apocrypha, and how odd were some of the names in the old Bible ! Such old-fashioned ear-rings as she wore, too. One day I asked her if she had not had them a long time, for my mother had, hidden safely away, a pair something like them that grandpa gave her for her fifth birthday, when he came home with his ship. Said she, "My husband put these in my ears forty years ago on our wedding-day, and I want them buried with me."
It so happened that her wish was fulfilled that same summer, and it was my mournful pleasure to attend her last hours and moments in this life.
Dear children, it is a sacred pleasure to realize that you have lightened a few hours of the aged and lonely who have been withdrawn from the sunshine and cheerfulness of outdoor existence. If it is your privilege to do so, let your ministrations help them to forget a portion of their sorrow and pain, and perhaps they may bear a kind word for you to the higher and better world.
The Mother's Heart
IF children could realize how indifference and disrespect to parents wound the heart, they would never offend in that way. "Honor thy father and thy mother," is one of the first commands, and was intended to be obeyed as much as any other. When one of God's commands is disobeyed, a penalty is sure to follow, whether the transgressor realizes the cause or not. It may be that every disappointment, loss, sickness or affliction is a penalty merci- fully appointed to pay the debt here instead of here-after. If so, what a load we would carry with us into the next life to our great shame and hindrance if we do not expiate, in part, our faults while here.
If a person should make you a costly present, you would entertain the most pleasant feelings toward that one; your countenance would brighten and your step hasten to do some kindness in return, and this you would perhaps consider almost nothing in comparison. Yet, to those who gave you the first smile and welcome, shelter, food and clothing, loving care and teaching, do you respond as willingly ? If so, how sweet must be the thought ; if not, there will be much to regret some day.
If you were making some beautiful article for yourself, your time and materials being limited, and you should mar your workmanship beyond repairing, how sorrowful you would be ; but the spirit and the record you are moulding are what money cannot create or replace; neither can time efface from the faithful records of the heart, the vivid picture of a misused opportunity, an injured work of the soul. There is some consolation in the knowledge that repentance cancels part of the offense, if not its result; but the heart that never repents or seeks to amend its wrongs, the heart that fosters ingratitude, is cultivating an element that will at last destroy every bright attribute and hope.
Let me tell you a story or two from life to show you the tenderness of a mother's heart, its long, enduring love.
A woman past sixty years of age, a tailoress, lived near me. She had sons and grandchildren, and was very kind to them all, constantly helping to provide for the families, and even now and then lending some poor man or woman a sum of money to start business with; always cheerful and hopeful in her ways, and never idle. Early and late her sewing-machine was hurrying, and some persons hinted that she must have riches hoarded up. One day a young woman entered the shop, and the tailoress looking at the baby she carried in her arms, the baby responded with a coo and a spring toward her. "What do you think of my baby ? Just take her a minute," said the young mother. The gray-haired woman drew back, and a strange look came over her face. "I have never held a girl-baby in my arms since my own little girl died I cannot! " said she. "How long ago was that?" tenderly asked the young mother. "Thirty years," answered the poor woman, and the tears came so fast she had to wipe them away, and the rest of us had to wipe our eyes too. Long as we had known her, we had never had a thought that a secret, beautiful and sacred sorrow was hidden in her heart, but I know that ever afterward we who were in her shop that afternoon always spoke with tenderness to the poor old woman, as though we were partners in her sorrow.
THE GRAVE AT NEPHI.
There was another old woman, quite an eccentric person, whom some young folks used to smile at when she came to their houses with her basket of lace and other small things ; she was so lofty about her business, as though it were vastly more important than it really was, and so cheerful about it, as though it was a very delightful way of making her living. "I'm sorry you have to earn your living this way," said a young lady to her one day. " Why, my dear, it's just as well as for your father to be selling furniture the year around; I only has to earn a little bit for myself, and it brings in all I need, and I gets acquainted with lots of fine young folks, and I sees all the pretty things as I pass along as well as if I was riding, and I gets refreshed a bit, and when I goes home I've lots to think over that I've seen through the day, and that's better than sitting alone and fretting. I'm well off, my dear, to get what I need and lay a bit by for a future day." We all felt a little touched, and when she missed coming next week we hardly knew what to think, but the week after she came again, and we inquired if she had been sick. "No, my dears, I have been down to Nephi on the excursion train to visit my daughter." "Why, we didn't know you had a child living." "And I hasn't, my dears; my daughter has been dead and buried these eighteen years; only nineteen when she died; and every year I goes down once in the summer and takes my bouquet of flowers to lay on her grave, and I has my bread and cheese and bottle of cold tea, and I sits down by her grave till sundown, and we has a comfortable time together that lasts till I goes again."
Do you think we felt like smiling slyly at her odd ways after that? One of us went out and brought a tray with refreshments, and never forgot to do the same thing in all her after calls. She had kept her Decoration-day years before it had become a national custom.
Let me tell you of another mother's faithful heart. This woman had such love for children, such tender pity for the orphan, that she had, when we first met her, raised three adopted children of different parentage. One day a person said to her, "You never had a child of your own, did you?" "Yes, I have got a son of my own," proudly answered the dear old lady. The questioner paused in surprise, and thought, "Perhaps she left him for the Gospel's sake," and respectfully pursued, " Did you leave him in the old country?" "Yes, I have left my dear boy in the old country." "How old is he? and does he write to you?" "He does not write to me; he is twenty- three years old. He died when he was five." "Died? then you have not got him now!" "Yes, I have got him now; I have got him all the time, I have never lose him, he is mine."
Children, let these brief stories prove to you that each heart bears its own hidden, sweet history, and do be careful when meeting the aged, the poor and mumble, to speak kindly and show them respect; perhaps this is all you can ever do for them, and you little know what might be revealed to claim your pity and admiration.
Died on the Way
THE emigrant train had come in, and so many were waiting, some at the depot with their own vehicles, watching for dear ones ; others hailed hacks or took the street-cars, and a few remained, who would, as soon as the throng cleared away a little, walk up to the house where homeless emigrants might stay for a few days.
A party of four by themselves attracted attention. A man of solemn countenance, with two little children that clung on either side of him, serious, frightened-looking little things, although they were healthy and neatly dressed. Beside them walked a pale woman with a babe in her arms. Oh, those sad dark eyes ! The group, followed by a few others, moved into the large yard, and when they entered the house, sobs and moans and the cries of little children broke forth. Men and women on the street had noticed and wondered, but no one liked to ask a question, and now well they had gone out of sight. The man who had charge of the house came to show them a room, and render assistance if needed and learned the sad story. The baby had been ailing a little, and just before they reached the city had died in convulsions. The parents must go on in the morning, and the precious one be laid among strangers. The father walked the floor in dumb wretchedness. One after another came in with heart-felt words. One whose heart is ever kind and thoughtful, provided a meal for the travelers and then went out for the little casket. His wife came in and saw that dainty clothes were in readiness, and the husband assumed the expense of the occasion, saying it was little enough he could do, for his own heart had known the loss of his first child only a short time before. The tears of strangers mingled with the mourners, and it may be that the sweet sympathy helped to assuage their grief.
A young girl came in and looked on, but what was there for her to do ? A sudden thought ! She went out and in a few moments returned with a handful of flowers and laid them upon the casket. The poor mother took one from the rest and laid it in her pocket-book. Brief services were held, and in a few moments the little casket was carried out, the family entered a carriage, and then the few who had gathered around dispersed to their own homes. The little Saint had reached his journey's end, the Zion of his parents hopes, and now endeared to them, by that little mound, their link between earth and heaven.
In early times, before the railroad was made, many yielded to the fatigues of travel by wagon. I knew of a young girl whose lover set out for Zion, having not means sufficient for both, but intending to earn money and send back for her. It happened soon after he had gone that means came to her family, and they joyfully set forth with the next company. They had reached "the plains," and one night the young lady, after walking about awhile, sat down to rest. They had seen, day after day, newly-made graves by the way- side. "Lily, dear, perhaps that is a grave you are sitting upon; there is a board at one end." Lily rose and bent over to read the name, then cried out, " Mother! " It was the grave of the young man who had left them in England so little while before. This was Lily's first trial in coming to Zion, and the journey from that day must have been a sorrowful one.
There was an old man so poor that he was obliged to go into an institution for the poor. The officers granted him the privilege of coming out on Sunday to attend his house of worship, and knew he was a Latter-day Saint too. This was perhaps his only solace, but he kept praying that God would bring him out of that prison life and to Zion. The matter was spoken of in meeting, and word reached Salt Lake City, where an old friend of his had lately come. Very soon it was written to a friend there that the money was forwarded to pay his passage here. On Sunday he was asked after meeting if he could make ready in three days to go to Utah. He was overjoyed, and the release from the house was obtained next day. With his possessions all tied up in one red cotton handkerchief, he left the prison-like walls and went among old acquaintances, bidding them a glad good-by. It so happened that some of these found themselves able to add a few gifts and comforts for the journey, which you may be sure he appreciated. Friends related how he enjoyed the ocean trip and the cities of America, then the cars for the long, swift ride. But, alas ! his feeble frame could not endure the constant excitement and change, and it was thought best to stop over a few days to give him rest. A good elder stayed with him and did all that could be done. One night the old man said, ''Brother, you can go on in the morning with my body. I want it buried in Zion ; but I shall be there in spirit, before you." He died happy, because he was free and on his way here.
Children who were born in Zion have no idea of the intense, prayerful longing in the hearts of those who desire to gather to God's appointed place. I know all about it, for I once lived out in the world. Can you realize the blessing of emigrating those who cannot otherwise get here ? How different all would have seemed if that poor man had died away back beyond the ocean!
Two Fishermen
There were two fishermen who where close pals. They used to catch fish together on weekends. Since they were busy in their personal work and family, they hardly spend time together. It was a Saturday and they decided to drive to a nearby pond to enjoy their day in fishing. Also, they wanted to have some feast with the fish they catch.
Both carried essential utensils, cooking accessories, ingredients and fishing equipments. They reached the pond.
They sat at a distance and started hunting for the fish. The first fisherman got a big and beautiful fish in a few minutes. He was so happy and placed the fish in the ice box to retain the freshness. He decided to cook the fish as a whole fish in the noon. He spent some more time and captured a few more fishes. He decided to make a grand meal with the fish. Also, he froze a few fishes to take it back to home.
It was almost more than an hour they were fishing. He then approached the second fisherman and asked him if he need any help. The second man said no. In a few minutes, the second fisherman captured a large fish. However, he put that back into the lake.
The first man was surprised at his act. He remained silent. The second man captured many big fishes, but he just put back all those fishes into the lake.
Very annoyed by his act, the first fisherman angrily asked him, 'Are you mad? Why do you put your fishes back into the water? They were beautiful and big!'
The second fisherman replied, 'I know they were big, but I don't have the big pan to cook the big fish! So I'm looking for a smaller fish that fits my cooking pan! The god is troubling me today.'
By hearing this, the first fisherman was surprised. He advised the second fisherman to cut the big fish into small pieces to suit in the pan and cook them properly.
Many people are just like the second fisherman. We are provided with handful of big opportunities, chances and even fortune that we many times overlook. We need to work out just the same like the big fish fit into a small pan.
God will always give massive possibilities as well as problems that we can handle effortlessly. Everything given to us is within our means. Tell your problems that you have god with you rather than telling the god that you have problems.
The Worry Men
There were two funny men living together for a long time. Both of them were very close pals, very stupid and yet they lived happily. Something that annoys other people is that they worry even for very minor issues.
One day, they saw a sign board with these words.
'If you can do something successfully, there is no reason to worry about doing it!
If you cannot do something, worrying for it will not make it happen!'
The two men decided not to worry for anything.
However, they still did worry that who would then take care of their problems. They decided to appoint a person who could worry for their problems.
After few days, they found a man who survived on temporary jobs. The man asked how much they would like to pay if he worries for them.
The old men discussed and told him that they decided to pay 20 bucks for a week for his job!
The young man said it won't work! He continued, 'you pay too little to worry about something for you. How can I worry when I really worry about the little pay?'
The old men discussed again and told they were ready to pay him 150 bucks a week!
The surprised young man, 'It won't work again. You pay a huge amount. While I earn a good sum of money, why should I worry?
The old men started to worry now!!!!
The Duck Pond
SO little Bridget took the baby on her right arm and a jug in her left hand, and went to the farm to get the milk. On her way she went by the garden-gate of a large house that stood close to the farm, and she told the baby a story:-
"Last summer," she said," a little girl, bigger than you, for she was just able to walk, came to stay in that house she and her father and mother. All about the road just here, the ducks and the chickens from the farm, and an old turkey, used to walk about all the day long, but the poor little ducks were very unhappy, for they had no pond to swim about in, only that narrow ditch through which the streamlet is flowing. When the little girl's father saw this, he took a spade, and worked and worked very hard, and out of the ditch and the streamlet he made a little pond for the ducks, and they swam about and were very happy all through the summer days. Every morning I used to stand and watch, and presently the garden-gate would open, and then the father would come out, leading the little girl by the hand, and the mother brought a large plateful of bits of broken bread. The little girl used to throw the bread to the ducks, and they ran after it and ate it up quickly, while she laughed out with glee,, and the father and the mother laughed too just as merrily. Baby, the father had blue eyes, and a voice that you seemed to hear with your heart.
"The little girl used to feed the chickens too, and the foolish old turkey that was so fond of her it would run after her until she screamed and was afraid. The dear father and the little girl came out every morning, while the black pigs looked through the bars of the farm-yard gate and grunted at them, as if they were glad, and I think the ducks knew that the father had made the pond, for they swam round and round it proudly while he watched them, but when he went away they seemed tired and sad.
"The pond is not there now, baby, for a man came by one day and made it into a ditch again; and the chickens and the ducks from the farm are kept in another place.
"The little girl is far away in her own home, which the father made for her, and the dear father lives in his own home too in the hearts of those he loved."
That was the story that Bridget told the baby.
The Power of Silence
Joe was an old man aged 75 years. He lived very happily and formed a beautiful family. His children grew up and moved to different cities in pursue of good career and future. He lived in a small village carrying the memories of his deceased wife. Joe had 4 grand children and they used to visit him during their holidays.
And it was the vacation time and Joe was eagerly waiting for the arrival of his grand children. He was preparing his home for the kids, cleaning the home, mowing the garden, rearranging the household items, buying the favourite foods, dresses for the children, etc. In the busy arrangements, he lost his favourite watch. old-watch
The watch was gifted by his dead wife when their first child was born. Joe treasured the watch and it became his sole companion after his wife's death.
He forgot the watch missing and was happy receiving the kids at home. It was only the next day when he was about to take bath, he remembered that the watch was missing. He saw the watch last when he was arranging things in the barn. He was shocked and very upset.
His grandchildren asked him why he was so dull and asked him what troubled him.
Joe said, 'Dear children, I lost the most precious watch I have ever had and I ever got in my life. It was gifted by your grandma and I lost it while cleaning the home! I feel like I'm missing my heart.'
Joe was on tears and the children promised him that they would search the watch for him.
One granddaughter asked 'grand pa, do you remember when you saw the watch last before it was missing?'
Joe told, 'I guess when I was cleaning the barn!'
The children decided to search for the watch in the barn. The barn was full of waste materials, books, scraps, broken furniture, etc.
The children searched for more than 2 hours with help of Joe and a servant, but could not find it. Joe was completely shattered and asked the children to stop searching as they could not find anything.
The kids were also too sad, and consoled the grandfather.
One grandson again moved to the barn, and Joe asked why he was going there again. The little boy requested others not to follow him and remain silent.
While the others were little surprised, they still followed what he said. The little boy went to the barn and sat there in silence.
The other children reached him and asked him what he was doing and the little boy asked them not to make noise.
He sat there for about 15 minutes and then rushed to his grandfather. Yes, he got the watch and happily gave it to Joe.
He was surprised and asked how he was able to find it. The little boy replied, 'I sat there without making a noise and the barn was so silent. After a few minutes, I heard the 'tick tick' sound and found the watch.
Joe hugged him and thanked the little boy.
This is the power of silence. If we stay calm, we can find the solution very easily!
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