the seed

THE SEED

In the Far East the emperor was growing old and knew it was time to choose
his successor. Instead of choosing one of his assistants or his children, he
decided to do something different. He called young people in the kingdom
together one day. He said, “It is time for me to step down and choose the
next emperor. I have decided to choose one of you.”

The children were shocked, but the emperor continued. “I am going to give
each one of you a seed today – one very special seed. I want you to plant
the seed, water it, and come back here one year from today with what you
have grown from this one seed. I will then judge the plants that you bring,
and the one I choose will be the next emperor.”

One boy, named Ling, was there that day and he, like the others, received a
seed. He went home and excitedly, told his mother the story. She helped him
get a pot and planting soil, and he planted the seed and watered it,
carefully. Everyday, he would water it and watch to see if it had grown..
After about three weeks, some of the other youths began to talk about their
seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Ling kept checking his
seed, but nothing ever grew. Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went by,
still nothing. By now, others were talking about their plants, but Ling
didn’t have a plant and he felt like a failure. Six months went by — still
nothing in Ling’s pot.

He just knew he had killed his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall
plants, but he had nothing. Ling didn’t say anything to his friends,
however. He just kept waiting for his seed to grow. A year finally went by
and all the youths of the kingdom brought their plants to the emperor for
inspection. Ling told his mother that he wasn’t going to take an empty pot.
But his mother asked him to be honest about what happened.

Ling felt sick at his stomach, but he knew his mother was right. He took his
empty pot to the palace. When Ling arrived, he was amazed at the variety of
plants grown by the other youths. They were beautiful — in all shapes and
sizes. Ling put his empty pot on the floor and many of the other children
laughed at him. A few felt sorry for him and just said, “Hey, nice try.”

When the emperor arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted the young people.
Ling just tried to hide in the back. “My, what great plants, trees, and
flowers you have grown,” said the emperor. “Today one of you will be
appointed the next emperor!”

All of a sudden, the emperor spotted Ling at the back of the room with his
empty pot. He ordered his guards to bring him to the front. Ling was
terrified. He thought, “The emperor knows I’m a failure! Maybe he will have
me killed!”

When Ling got to the front, the Emperor asked his name. “My name is Ling,”
he replied. All the kids were laughing and making fun of him. The emperor
asked everyone to quiet down. He looked at Ling, and then announced to the
crowd, “Behold your new emperor! His name is Ling!”

Ling couldn’t believe it. Ling couldn’t even grow his seed. How could he be
the new emperor?

Then the emperor said, “One year ago today, I gave everyone here a seed. I
told you to take the seed, plant it, water it, and bring it back to me
today. But I gave you all boiled seeds that would not grow. All of you,
except Ling, have brought me trees and plants and flowers. When you found
that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for the one I
gave you. Ling was the only one with the courage and honesty to bring me a
pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he Is the one who will be the new
emperor!”

If you plant honesty, you will reap trust. If you plant goodness, you will
reap friends. If you plant humility, you will reap greatness. If you plant
perseverance, you will reap victory. If you plant consideration, you will
reap harmony. If you plant hard work, you will reap success. If you plant
forgiveness, you will reap reconciliation. If you plant faith, you will reap
miracles. So be careful what you plant, now; it will determine what you will
reap tomorrow. The seeds you now scatter will make life worse or better for
you or for the ones who will come after you. Someday you will enjoy the
fruits or you will pay for the choices you make.

Two thousand years ago someone else told the same story with fewer words,
“What you sow, so shall you reap”. If you know who said this, nothing else
needs to be said.

– Author Unknown

Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

______________________________________

The “Older” Serenity Prayer
============================

In answer to the issue, “The Changed Serenity Prayer”
The “Older” Serenity Prayer

God grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked,
The good fortune to run into the ones I do,
And the eyesight to tell the difference.

_________________________________________________________________

The Changed Serenity Prayer
============================

The MountainWings issue, “The Person I Can Fix” moved me to send
my version of the serenity prayer.

I was in Alcoholics Anonymous and took on The Serenity Prayer as
a daily ritual. After some years I realized that the “things”
that I struggled with were other people!

My version became:

God grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change.
The courage to change the only person I can, myself.
And the wisdom to know the difference between when it is my
problem or their problem.

~ A MountainWings Original by Dane Gravely, Collinsville, VA~

Why Women Are Crabby

——————————

Why Women Are Crabby
=====================

I just had to share this. I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to
post as one of your daily “MountainWings Moments.” However, I’m
absolutely positive your wife, sister-in-law, mother, mother-in-
law and any other woman you can think of will enjoy reading
this. PLEASE PASS IT ON!
Tameka Hudson

Why Women Are Crabby

We started to “bud” in our blouses at 9 or 10 years old only to
find that anything that came in contact with those tender,
blooming buds hurt so bad it brought us to tears. So came the
ridiculously uncomfortable training bra contraption that the
boys in school would snap until we had calluses on our backs.

Next, we get our periods in our early to mid-teens (or sooner).
Along with those budding boobs, we bloated, we cramped, we got
the hormone crankies, had to wear little mattresses between our
legs or insert tubular, packed cotton rods in places we didn’t
even know we had.

Our next little rite of passage (premarital or not) was having
sex for the first time which was about as much fun as having a
ramrod push your uterus through your nostrils (IF he did it
right and didn’t end up with his little cart before his horse),
leaving us to wonder what all the fuss was about.

Then it’ was off to Motherhood where we learned to live on dry
crackers and water for a few months so we didn’t spend the
entire day leaning over Brother John. Of course, amazing
creatures that we are (and we are), we learned to live with the
growing little angels inside us steadily kicking our innards
night and day making us wonder if we were preparing to have
Rosemary’s Baby.

Our once flat bellies looked like we swallowed a watermelon
whole and we pee’d our pants every time we sneezed. When the big
moment arrived, the dam in our blessed Nether Regions invariably
burst right in the middle of the mall and we had to waddle, with
our big cartoon feet, moaning in pain all the way to the ER.

Then it was huff and puff and beg to die while the OB says,
“Please stop screaming, Mrs. Hear-me-roar. Calm down and push.
Just one more good push (more like 10),” warranting a strong,
well-deserved impulse to punch the %*#!* (and hubby) square in
the nose for making us cram a wiggling, mushroom-headed 10lb
bowling ball through a keyhole.

After that, it was time to raise those angels only to find that
when all that “cute” wears off, the beautiful little darlings
morphed into walking, jabbering, wet, gooey, snot-blowing, life-
sucking little poop machines.

Then come their “Teen Years.” Need I say more?

When the kids are almost grown, we women hit our voracious
sexual prime in our early 40’s – while hubby had his somewhere
around his 18th birthday.

So we progress into the grand finale: “The Menopause,” the
Grandmother of all womanhood. It’s either take HRT and chance
cancer in those now seasoned “buds” or the aforementioned Nether
Regions, or, sweat like a hog in July, wash your sheets and
pillowcases daily and bite the head off anything that moves.

Now, you ask WHY women seem to be more spiteful than men, when
men get off so easy, INCLUDING the icing on life’s cake: Being
able to pee in the woods without soaking their socks…

So, while I love being a woman, “Womanhood” would make the Great
Gandhi a tad crabby. Women are the “weaker sex”? Yeah right.
Bite me.

~Author Unknown~

from The Mountain:
I did let my wife and sister-in-law read this.

Forward this issue to a friend or send them the link below:
http://www.mountainwings.com/past/8212.htm