“THE WOODEN BOWL”

> >A frail old man went to live with his son,

> >daughter-in-law, and four-year grandson.

> >The old man’s hands trembled. His eye sight 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

> >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 family glanced in Grandfather’s direction,

> >sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he ate 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 remaining of his days, the grandfather 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.