there once was a carpenter who lived in the mountains. he worked hard every day to care for his family. at night his children would ask him for a bedtime story. tired, from his long day of work, he would tell them the shortest story he could think of...
''there once was a man. he lived and he died. the end.”
the children were disappointed at such a short story that seemed
to have all the excitement left out of it. though they didn't
realize it, their father was passing along a valuable lesson in that
story. the story of the man who lived and died is everyone's story.
we all live and we will all die, it is up to each of us to make the
part in the middle something special.
the carpenter is still swinging his hammer. every day the work he
does brings something special into the world, into my world, and to
our life together.