Grandpa's Wooden Bowl

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
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, 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, 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 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.