WISDOM OF THE WORLD - WEEK 55

Angel of Grass

An old legend says that in the beginning, when God created the world, He gave every living thing an angel to bless and guard it - an angel for man, one for the birds, one for the beasts of the forest, one for the trees, and one for the flowers.

Even the common grass had an angel. But the angel of the grass was not pleased. Humiliated, he said, "I will have nothing to do with it. That old, homely grass can grow by itself!"

The season passed. The grass shrivelled. The flowers died because the grass held no dew. The deer in the forests and the cattle in the fields died because there was no grass. Seeing the effect and further consequences God intervened.

He turned His eyes upon the angel of the grass and asked, "Was it a small thing, or a great thing that I asked thee to do?"

In shame the angel of the grass fell at the Lord's feet and begged His forgiveness, for he saw now the unsuspected greatness of his seemingly lowly task.

Rose Bennington

WISDOM OF THE WORLD - WEEK 64

Thanks to Scoil Iosagain for the image....

Work Has Its Own Rewards
A wealthy nobleman was once touring his estate and came upon a peasant pitching hay. The nobleman was fascinated by the sight and he stood watching the flowing motions of the peasant's arms and shoulders and the graceful sweep of the pitchfork through the air for quite a while. He so greatly enjoyed the spectacle that he struck a deal with the peasant. He would give him a gold coin every day if the peasant agreed to come to the mansion and display his hay-pitching technique in the nobleman's drawing room.

The next day, the peasant arrived at the mansion, hardly concealing his glee at his new line of "work." After swinging his empty pitchfork for an hour, he collected his gold coin--many times his usual reward for a week of backbreaking labour. But by the following day, his enthusiasm had somewhat waned. Before the week was out, he announced that he was quitting his commission.
"I don't understand," puzzled the nobleman. "Why would you rather swing heavy loads outdoors in the winter cold and the summer heat, when you can perform an effortless task in the comfort of my home and earn many times your usual wages?"

"But master," said the man, "I'm not doing anything..."

REMEMBERANCE CEREMONY AT FORT DUNREE

See the Face of Dunree.....

CHARITY WALK AND CYCLE

Fundraising fun at St Mura's school in Buncrana....

WISDOM OF THE WORLD - WEEK 63

Concentration

After winning several archery contests, the young and rather boastful champion challenged a master who was renowned for his skill as an archer. The young man demonstrated remarkable technical proficiency when he hit a distant bull's eye on his first try, and then split that arrow with his second shot.

"There," he said to the old man, "see if you can match that!" Undisturbed, the master did not draw his bow, but rather motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain. Curious about the old fellow's intentions, the champion followed him high into the mountain until they reached a deep chasm spanned by a rather flimsy and shaky log. Calmly stepping out onto the middle of the unsteady and certainly perilous bridge, the old master picked a far away tree as a target, drew his bow, and fired a clean, direct hit.

"Now it is your turn," he said as he gracefully stepped back onto the safe ground. Staring with terror into the seemingly bottomless and beckoning abyss, the young man could not force himself to step out onto the log, no less shoot at a target. "You have much skill with your bow," the master said, sensing his challenger's predicament, "but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot."

WISDOM OF THE WORLD - WEEK 62

A Useless Life

A farmer got so old that he couldn't work the fields anymore. So he would spend the day just sitting on the porch. His son, still working the farm, would look up from time to time and see his father sitting there. "He's of no use any more," the son thought to himself, "he doesn't do anything!"

One day the son got so frustrated by this, that he built a wood coffin, dragged it over to the porch, and told his father to get in. Without saying anything, the father climbed inside. After closing the lid, the son dragged the coffin to the edge of the farm where there was a high cliff. As he approached the drop, he heard a light tapping on the lid from inside the coffin.

He opened it up. Still lying there peacefully, the father looked up at his son. "I know you are going to throw me over the cliff, but before you do, may I suggest something?"

"What is it?" replied the son.

"Throw me over the cliff, if you like," said the father, "but save this good wood coffin... Your children might need to use it."

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