The Wooden Bowl
I do not know the author of this story. This was received via email from a dear friend of mine from Florida. There is a lot of wisdom to be learned from it. Pastor Phil Lane
I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wo o den Bowl
tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now, a year from now.
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 father," 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.
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 in when I grow up.
" The four-year-old smiled and went back to work.
The words so struck the parents so 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 a
nd 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.
Signs You Are Under Too Much Stress
• Everyone around you has an attitude problem.
• You're adding chocolate chips to your cheese omelet
• The dryer has shrunk every last pair of your jeans.
• Your husband is suddenly agreeing to everything you say.
• You're using your cellular phone to dial up every bumper sticker that says: How's my driving? Call 1-800-***-****.
• Everyone's head looks like an invitation to batting practice.
• You're sure that everyone is scheming to drive you crazy.
• The ibuprofen bottle is empty, and you bought it yesterday. 
My Grandpa Is Better Than Your Grandpa
Shooting the breeze down at the Veteran's Hospital, a trio of old timers ran out of tales of their own heroic exploits and started bragging about their ancestors. "My great grandfather, at age thirteen," one declared proudly, "was a drummer boy at Shiloh."
"Mine," boasted another, "went down with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn."
"I'm the only soldier in my family," confessed vet number three, "but if my great grandfather was living today he'd be the most famous man in the world."
"Why? What'd he do?"
"Nothing much. But he'd be 165 years old." 