Paresh, an Indian carpenter I once hired to help me restore my old
farmhouse had just finished a difficult and hard first day on the job. A
flat tyre on his lorry made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw
packed in, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove
him home, Paresh sat in stony, thoughtful silence.
On arriving, Paresh, in the way of all Indian gentlefolk, invited me in
to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at
a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands. When
opening the door to his home, he underwent an amazing transformation. His
tanned face wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave
his wife a kiss.
After a cup of tea, he walked me to my car. We passed the tree and my
curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do
earlier.
'Oh, that's my trouble tree,' Paresh replied. 'I know I can't help having
troubles on the job, but one thing for sure, troubles don't belong in the
house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them on the tree every
night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again. Funny
thing is', he smiled winningly, 'when I come out in the morning to pick them
up, there aren't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.'
Here is the situation, Jenny the farmer's
wife looks out of her window. What does she see but a bull in a field caught his head in between the bars of a feeder.
Jenny calls the fire brigade.
Their siren only makes the bull more agitated. When they appraise the situation they realise they are not equipped to deal with cattle, so they phone for the RSPCA inspector to help free the animal.
Six hefty firemen and the inspector push and pull the
beast and eventually they wrestle its head from between the bars.
The bull was, by now, very angry and turned snorting at the men and began to attack them.
Fearing for their life, they hide in the animal feeder. Whereupon the farmer's
wife burst into tears of joy followed by tears of laughter.
Jenny was now able to rescue the rescuers.
All she did was get the bull's
old milk bottle, half fill it with milk, put on the teat, and use it to lead the bull from the animal feeder into the farmyard and close the gate.
A man who lost his axe suspected his neighbour's son of stealing it. To
him, as he observed the boy, the way the lad walked, the expression on his
face, the manner of his speech - in fact everything about his appearance and
behaviour betrayed that he had stolen the axe.
Not long afterwards the man found his axe while digging in his cellar.
When he saw his neighbour's son again, nothing about the boy's behaviour nor
appearance seemed to suggest that he had stolen the axe.
In days gone by, two brothers, Raul and Johan, who lived on adjoining
farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 35 years of
farming side-by-side in central Germany, sharing machinery, and trading
labour and goods as needed without a single problem occurring.
However, one autumn, 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
between the two brothers.
One morning there was a knock on Raul's door. He opened it to find a man
holding a carpenter's toolbox. 'I'm looking for a few days work,' Angelis
said. 'Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help
with? Could I help you?'
'Yes,' answered Raul, extremely pleased to see
Angelis the carpenter, 'I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at
that farm. That's my neighbour, in fact, it's my younger brother, Johan's
farm. 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 go 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 Johan's place nor his face anymore.'
Angelis the carpenter said
thoughtfully, '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.'
Raul
then left for the nearby town, Erfurt, 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, and hammering.
About sunset when
Raul 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 neighbour, his younger brother
Johan, was coming across, his hand outstretched. 'You are quite a fellow to
build this bridge after all I've said and done, 'Johan smiled.
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,' called Raul.
'I'd love to stay on,' Angelis murmured quietly,
'but, I have many more bridges to build.'
Ethical Stories
If you don't see the topic that you are interested in try our 'Search'
box because we have a large selection of inspirational tales, and honourable
stories of good triumphing over evil. Also here are more of our
moral short stories.
One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried
piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out a way to get him out.
Finally he decided it was probably impossible and the animal was old and the
well was dry anyway, so it just wasn't worth it to try and retrieve the
donkey. So the farmer asked his neighbours to come over and help him cover
up the well. They all grabbed shovels and began to shovel dirt into the
well.
At first, when the donkey realized what was happening he cried horribly.
Then, to everyone's amazement, he quieted down and let out some happy brays. A few shovel loads later, the farmer looked down the well to see what was
happening and was astonished at what he saw. With every shovel of dirt that
hit his back, the donkey was shaking it off and taking a step up.
As the farmer's neighbours continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal,
he continued to shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, to everyone's
amazement, the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off.
Will and Guy consider that the moral of this tale is: Life is going to
shovel dirt on you. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off
and take a step up. Through applying wisdom every adversity can be
turned into a stepping stone. The way to get out of the deepest well
is by never giving up but by shaking yourself off and taking a step up.
The moral is what happens to you isn't nearly as important as how you react to it.
A grandmother and a little girl whose face was sprinkled with bright
red freckles spent the day at the zoo. The children were waiting in
line to get their cheeks painted by a local artist who was decorating
them with tiger paws.
'You've got so many freckles, there's no place
to paint!' a boy in the line cried.
Embarrassed, the little girl dropped her head. Her grandmother knelt
down next to her. 'I love your freckles,' she said.
'Not me,' the
girl replied.
'Well, when I was a little girl I always wanted
freckles,' she said, tracing her finger across the child's cheek.
'Freckles are beautiful!'
The girl looked up. 'Really?'
'Of course,' said the grandmother. 'Why, just name me one thing
that's prettier than freckles.'
The little girl peered into the old
woman's smiling face. 'Wrinkles,' she answered softly.
Here are tales which made Will and Guy stop and think. They are of
solice in times when life stops running smoothly, and even ordinary tasks
seem an uphill struggle.
The Tale of the Cracked Pot
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 woman bringing home
only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of
its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own
imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been
made to do.
After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the
woman one day by the stream. 'I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in
my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.' The old
woman smiled, 'Did you notice that there are flowers 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 water
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.'
Each of us has our own unique flaw...
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.
To all of my crackpot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the
flowers, on your side of the path. Take the time to absorb this
inspirational Chinese proverb.
Patrick came home from work and found his three children outside, still
in their pyjamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers
strewn all around the front garden.
The door of his wife, Valerie's car was open, as was the front door to
the house and there was no sign of the dog. Proceeding into the hall,
Patrick found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the rug
was piled up against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a
cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items
of clothing.
In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the
worktop, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a
broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the
back door.
Patrick quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles
of clothes, looking for Valerie. He was worried she might be ill, collapsed,
that something serious had happened.
He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the
bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more
toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and
toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and sink.
As he rushed to the bedroom, he found Valerie still curled up in the bed
in her pyjamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how
his day went.
Patrick looked at Valerie, bewildered and asked, 'What happened here
today?'
Valerie again smiled and answered, 'You know every day when you come home
from work and you ask me sarcastically what in the world I do all day?'
'Yes,' was Patrick's startled reply.
Valerie answered, 'Well, today, I didn't do it.'
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The bull was, by now, very angry and turned snorting at the men and began to attack them.
Fearing for their life, they hide in the animal feeder. 
