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Archiver > QUEBEC-RESEARCH > 2003-01 > 1042933775


From: Roch St-Pierre <>
Subject: [Q-R] The wooden bowl....whoa what amessage!
Date: Sat, 18 Jan 2003 15:49:39 -0800


I guarantee you will remember the tale of the Wooden 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 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 the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometime 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, 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 and 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.

On a positive note, I've learned that, no matter what happens how bad it
seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles
three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll
miss them when they're gone from your life.
I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."

I just did.

And yes this Genealogy



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