blue truck and it was like looking into a mirror. Just like this rotten ol’ truck with the keys locked inside, he was utterly powerless to start himself on the right path. He needed to discover what had been placed in him from the beginning. He needed to find the One that was there all along dwelling within his heart.
With his head up high and a new light in his eyes, the young man turned around completely from the way he’d been going and ran as fast as he could in the other direction . . .
And the blue truck continues to stand alone.
The Light of Man is Darkness
There once stood a wall that divided men. Tall, grey, and monstrous, it cast a shadow so large it was as if the sun only rose on one side. On the brighter side, there lived those that knew freedom. From morning to night, men played like children, either singing together to color the air around them, or simply sprawling about to gaze at the shapes of the clouds up above. Men were free to be as they pleased. But on the other side of this wall, darkness reigned over the people like a devilish sheet, suffocating them slowly, stamping out any signs of light and life. Men could not speak, let alone sing.
It happened one day that a man from the lighter side walked along the wall, joy welling up within that was hardly containable. Until, that is, he began to hear some faint murmurs and gurgles coming from the other side. Putting his ear to the cold cement seared the wails of misery in his mind and solidified the suffering of flesh in his chest. These sounds struck to the heart and it was a mere moment before the man began to scale the wall. Onlookers observed, faces displayed dismay, and horror was heard in gasps of breaths and clicks of the tongue.
Nobody of the lighter side ever heard from the man again, but nonetheless, a strange thing happened that day. The man’s light, upon entering the darkness, was ne’er snuffed out. Rather, beams of new Light from the dark side began to break through the wall, a Light so bright that the previous light seemed like darkness. Every couple of minutes another piece of stone would shoot from the wall and a ray of light would penetrate and burst forth, transforming all that men thought was real.
(For R.P.)
Who Are the Poor?
There once was a beggar that lived in a small, dark alleyway in a great city. This beggar was paralyzed from the waist down. Everyday he would crawl with his arms, legs dragging behind him, to the city gates. There, he would hold up a small wooden bowl he had found.
He would plead, “Alms for the poor! Could somebody please help a crippled beggar! Please! I am so hungry!”
As each day went on people would usually drop a pinch of rice in his bowl. At the end of the day, he would have about a half a bowl full, and he would drag himself back to his alleyway where he would make a fire, cook it up, and eat. Every day he did this. Every day he cried, “Alms for the poor . . .”
Then a day came when he sensed something different going on in the city. It was festive. It was joyful. He dragged himself over to the gates to try and get his usual amount of rice, but was surprised to find a caravan of people entering the city. They were singing and dancing. When the man held his bowl up, before he could even say, “Alms for the poor . . .” the people had spotted him. They went up to him, smiling, and dropped handfuls of rice in his bowl! It was absolutely amazing! He had enough rice in a matter of two minutes to last him for the next three weeks! The beggar was overcome with joy.
At the end of the caravan, a grand coach pulled up to the gates. The beggar was in awe as the King of the city stepped out and approached him. He held up his bowl, expecting even more rice. But instead, the King said, “Beggar, give me your rice.”
“What?!” He looked up at the King in horror. He was in utter disbelief.
Again, the King said, “Beggar, give me your rice.”
The beggar thought to himself in disgust, “What a selfish and greedy king. He has everything in the world that he could possible want and he asks for the food of a crippled beggar. But he does have the power to kick me out of the city. I can’t give this guy my food, but if I don’t . . .”
He clutched his bowl to his belly and continued to look up at the King. A tear dropped from his eye. He really didn’t want to give up his rice, but out of fear, he reached into his bowl, grabbed three grains of rice, and gave them to the King. The King snapped his fingers, and an apprentice stepped out of the coach. He held in his hand three gold nuggets. He gently placed them on top of the beggar’s rice in his bowl. Then the King and his apprentice got back into the coach and pulled away.
The beggar wept and wondered what would have happened had he just given the King his entire bowl of rice. Even in his poverty, he was not truly poor.
(For D.D.)
Trouble at St. Michael’s Farm
St. Michael’s Farm was in bad shape. All of the animals that lived there were terribly unhappy. It all started when a drought hit the farm four years ago. The Farmer gave the animals water to drink, but it was in short supply, and it quickly became dirty. Flies became rampant, the heat was more than they could take, and the stench was unbearable.
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