Once upon a time two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.

Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.

One morning there was a knock on John’s door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter’s toolbox. “I’m looking for a few days work” he said. “Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help with? Could I help you?”

“Yes,” said the older brother. “I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That’s my neighbor, in fact, it’s my younger brother. “Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I’ll give him one better. See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence, an 8-foot fence, so I won’t need to see his place or his face anymore.”

The carpenter said, “I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I’ll be able to do a job that pleases you.”

The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer’s eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped.

There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge — a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work — handrails and all — and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched.
“You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I’ve said and done.”

The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other’s hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder.

“No, wait! Stay a few days. I’ve a lot of other projects for you,” said the older brother. “I’d love to stay on,” the carpenter said, “but, I have many more bridges to build.”

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KEEP THIS IN MIND:
God won’t ask what kind of car you drove;
He’ll ask how many people you drove who didn’t have transportation
God won’t ask the square footage of your house;
He’ll ask how many people you welcomed into your home.
God won’t ask about the clothes you had in your closet;
He’ll ask how many you helped to clothe.
God won’t ask about your social status;
He will ask what kind of class you displayed.
God won’t ask how many material possessions you had;
He’ll ask if they dictated your life.
God won’t ask what your highest salary was;
He’ll ask if you compromised your character to obtain it.
God won’t ask how much overtime you worked;
He’ll ask if your overtime work was for yourself or for your family.
God won’t ask how many promotions you received;
He’ll ask how you promoted others.
God won’t ask what your job title was;
He’ll ask if you performed that job to the best of your ability.
God won’t ask what you did to help yourself;
He’ll ask what you did to help others.
God won’t ask how many friends you had;
He’ll ask how many people to whom you were a friend.
God won’t ask what you did to protect your rights;
He’ll ask what you did to protect the rights of others.
God won’t ask in what neighborhood you lived;
He’ll ask how you treated your neighbors.
God won’t ask about the color of your skin;
He’ll ask about the content of your character.
God won’t ask how many times your deeds matched your words;
He’ll ask how many times they didn’t.
God won’t ask why it took you so long to seek Salvation;
He’ll lovingly take you to your mansion in heaven, and not to the gates of Hell.
God won’t ask how many people you forwarded this to;
He’ll ask if you were ashamed to pass it on to your friends.

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of Root Beer and he started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an elderly man. The man was sitting in the park just feeding some pigeons.

The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him a Twinkie.

The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at boy. His smile was so pleasant that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer.

Again, the man smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave, but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the man, and gave him a hug. The man gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his own house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, “What did you do today that made you so happy?

“He replied, “I had lunch with God.” But before his mother could respond, he added, “You know what? God’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”

Meanwhile, the elderly man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked,” Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?”

He replied, “I ate Twinkies in the park with God.” However, before his son responded, he added,” You know, he’s much younger than I expected.”

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!

~author unknown~

One day a farmer’s donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old and the well needed to be covered up anyway, it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey. He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement, he quieted down.

A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well and was astonished at what he saw. With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off!

Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a stepping stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up! Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.

Life’s too short!!! Enjoy Your Life; SHAKE IT OFF!

A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the House, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don’t get full value from your efforts,” the pot said.

The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw. So I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house?

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We’re all cracked pots. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You’ve just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape. Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life. Don’t forget to send this mail to all worthy people. I did it.

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package… “What food might this contain?” The mouse wondered – he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning.  “There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said,  “Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it.”

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, “There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”  The pig sympathized, but said, “I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it. ”

The mouse turned to the cow and said, “There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”  The cow said, “Wow, Mr. Mouse.  I’m sorry for you, but it’s no skin off my nose.But wish you well; be assured you are in my prayers “So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer’s mousetrap– alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house — like the sound  of a mousetrap catching its prey.The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught.

In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.  The snake bit the farmer’s wife.

The farmer rushed her to the hospital  and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard  for the soup’s main ingredient.  But his wife’s sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her  around the clock. To feed them, the farmer  butchered the pig.  The farmer’s wife did not get well; she died.

So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat  for all of them. The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn’t concern you, Remember — when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.  We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another  and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

SEND THIS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER HELPED YOU OUT AND LET THEM KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE. REMEMBER:

EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON’S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.

One of the best things to hold onto in this world is a friend.

By Max Lucado

The Wemmicks were small wooden people carved by a woodmaker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village.

Every Wemmick was different. But all day, everyday, the Wemmicks did the same thing: they gave each other stickers.

Each Wemmicks had a box each of golden star stickers and gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets, people could be seen sticking stars or dots on one another. The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. The talented ones got stars too. Some knew big words or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars.

But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmick gave dots. Others could do little. They got dots.

Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. The others would gather around and gave him dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more dots. He would try to explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him still more dots.

After a while, he had so many dots that he didn’t want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb, and that people would give him another dot.

“He deserves lots of dots,” the wooden people would agree with one another. “He’s not a good wooden person.”

After a while, Punchinello believed them. “I’m not a good Wemmick,” he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better around them.

One day, he met Lulia, a Wemmick who was unlike any he’d ever met – she had no dots or stars. Some admired Lulia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But it wouldn’t stick either.

That’s the way I want to be,thought Punchinello. I don’t want anyone’s marks. So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it.

“It’s easy,” Lulia replied, “every day I go see Eli.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He’s there.”

Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars or dots. “It’s not right,” he nuttered to himself. He resolved to go see Eli.

“Punchinello?” the voice was deep and strong. “Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look at you.” Eli stopped down and picked him up and set him on the bench.

Punchinello look at the large bearded craftsman. “You know my name?” the little Wemmick asked.

“Of course I do. I made you.” Eli inspected the gray circles. “Looks like you’ve been given some bad marks.”

“I didn’t mean to. I really tried hard.”

“Oh, you don’t have to defend yourself to me, child. I don’t care what the other Wemmicks think.”

“You don’t?”

“No, and you shouldn’t either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They’re Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn’t matter. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special.”

Punchinello laughed. “Me special? Why? I can’t walk fast. I can’t jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?”

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. “Because you’re mine. That’s why you matter to me.”

Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this – much less his maker. He didn’t know what to say. “Every day I’ve been hoping you’d come,” Eli explained.

“I came because I met someone who had no marks.”

“I know. She told me about you.”

“Why don’t the stickers stay on her?”

“Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them.”

“What?”

“The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about the stickers.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You will, but it take time. You’ve got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me everyday and let me remind you how much I care.” Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground.

“Remember,” Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door, “you are special because I made you. And I don’t make mistakes.”

Punchinello, in his heart, thought, I think he really means it. And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.