A story about how work can help us find peace and purpose

[RandomPoster]

When I was nine years old, my grandmother told my brother and I something I have always remembered. We had asked her if we could come into the house before we had finished hauling wood after school. We wanted to go with the rest of the family and visit our father, who was in the hospital after a heart attack. However, we had not yet finished our chores because we had allowed ourselves to become distracted worrying about our father and as a consequence could not go with the rest of the family to visit him. It was in the middle of the winter, freezing cold, and we were complaining that it was too cold outside for anyone to work. We even tried to bargain by promising to finish the chores in the morning before school, except my grandmother stood firm that my brother and I needed to learn about commitments and the consequences of not fulfilling them.

This is when my grandmother told us a story about hard work and how it can help us find peace and purpose. She came from a family of twenty children. One day during the flu epidemic when she was not much older than us at the time, six of her siblings died during the day. She went to bed and when she awoke, she was informed that her twin sister who was her best friend in the entire world had also died during the night. She recalled how her mother had to explain to her and the rest of the children that they would all have to remain strong and work harder because those seven children would no longer be able to help provide for the family and everyone would have to help out all that much more. Her mother brought her and the other children who were old enough with her to work and they all had to put in a day's labor. The only comfort her mother could give the children was a promise that hard work would help take their mind off the grief and hope would give them purpose to help them make it through.

My grandmother then told us that if we simply worked harder, it would help keep us warm and that the harder we worked, the warmer we would be. Lastly, she told us that sometimes hope and hard work is all we have and we simply have to keep going and do what we have to do, that she would relay our messages to our father in the hospital as well as his messages back to us, and that we should get back to work and remain hopeful that our father would come back home to our family.

 

[Asclepias]

What a heartless bitch. She didnt let you go see your own father?

 

[BULLDOG]

When I was nine years old, my grandmother told my brother and I something I have always remembered. We had asked her if we could come into the house before we had finished hauling wood after school. We wanted to go with the rest of the family and visit our father, who was in the hospital after a heart attack. However, we had not yet finished our chores because we had allowed ourselves to become distracted worrying about our father and as a consequence could not go with the rest of the family to visit him. It was in the middle of the winter, freezing cold, and we were complaining that it was too cold outside for anyone to work. We even tried to bargain by promising to finish the chores in the morning before school, except my grandmother stood firm that my brother and I needed to learn about commitments and the consequences of not fulfilling them.

This is when my grandmother told us a story about hard work and how it can help us find peace and purpose. She came from a family of twenty children. One day during the flu epidemic when she was not much older than us at the time, six of her siblings died during the day. She went to bed and when she awoke, she was informed that her twin sister who was her best friend in the entire world had also died during the night. She recalled how her mother had to explain to her and the rest of the children that they would all have to remain strong and work harder because those seven children would no longer be able to help provide for the family and everyone would have to help out all that much more. Her mother brought her and the other children who were old enough with her to work and they all had to put in a day's labor. The only comfort her mother could give the children was a promise that hard work would help take their mind off the grief and hope would give them purpose to help them make it through.

My grandmother then told us that if we simply worked harder, it would help keep us warm and that the harder we worked, the warmer we would be. Lastly, she told us that sometimes hope and hard work is all we have and we simply have to keep going and do what we have to do, that she would relay our messages to our father in the hospital as well as his messages back to us, and that we should get back to work and remain hopeful that our father would come back home to our family.

Wow. That helps explain why right wingers grew up to be such heartless bastards.

 

[RandomPoster]

When I was nine years old, my grandmother told my brother and I something I have always remembered. We had asked her if we could come into the house before we had finished hauling wood after school. We wanted to go with the rest of the family and visit our father, who was in the hospital after a heart attack. However, we had not yet finished our chores because we had allowed ourselves to become distracted worrying about our father and as a consequence could not go with the rest of the family to visit him. It was in the middle of the winter, freezing cold, and we were complaining that it was too cold outside for anyone to work. We even tried to bargain by promising to finish the chores in the morning before school, except my grandmother stood firm that my brother and I needed to learn about commitments and the consequences of not fulfilling them.

This is when my grandmother told us a story about hard work and how it can help us find peace and purpose. She came from a family of twenty children. One day during the flu epidemic when she was not much older than us at the time, six of her siblings died during the day. She went to bed and when she awoke, she was informed that her twin sister who was her best friend in the entire world had also died during the night. She recalled how her mother had to explain to her and the rest of the children that they would all have to remain strong and work harder because those seven children would no longer be able to help provide for the family and everyone would have to help out all that much more. Her mother brought her and the other children who were old enough with her to work and they all had to put in a day's labor. The only comfort her mother could give the children was a promise that hard work would help take their mind off the grief and hope would give them purpose to help them make it through.

My grandmother then told us that if we simply worked harder, it would help keep us warm and that the harder we worked, the warmer we would be. Lastly, she told us that sometimes hope and hard work is all we have and we simply have to keep going and do what we have to do, that she would relay our messages to our father in the hospital as well as his messages back to us, and that we should get back to work and remain hopeful that our father would come back home to our family.

Wow. That helps explain why right wingers grew up to be such heartless bastards.

The next day, my brother and I ran home after school, got our chores done early, and my grandmother drove us to see our father in the hospital.

 

[JOSweetHeart]

When I was nine years old, my grandmother told my brother and I something I have always remembered. We had asked her if we could come into the house before we had finished hauling wood after school. We wanted to go with the rest of the family and visit our father, who was in the hospital after a heart attack. However, we had not yet finished our chores because we had allowed ourselves to become distracted worrying about our father and as a consequence could not go with the rest of the family to visit him. It was in the middle of the winter, freezing cold, and we were complaining that it was too cold outside for anyone to work. We even tried to bargain by promising to finish the chores in the morning before school, except my grandmother stood firm that my brother and I needed to learn about commitments and the consequences of not fulfilling them.

This is when my grandmother told us a story about hard work and how it can help us find peace and purpose. She came from a family of twenty children. One day during the flu epidemic when she was not much older than us at the time, six of her siblings died during the day. She went to bed and when she awoke, she was informed that her twin sister who was her best friend in the entire world had also died during the night. She recalled how her mother had to explain to her and the rest of the children that they would all have to remain strong and work harder because those seven children would no longer be able to help provide for the family and everyone would have to help out all that much more. Her mother brought her and the other children who were old enough with her to work and they all had to put in a day's labor. The only comfort her mother could give the children was a promise that hard work would help take their mind off the grief and hope would give them purpose to help them make it through.

My grandmother then told us that if we simply worked harder, it would help keep us warm and that the harder we worked, the warmer we would be. Lastly, she told us that sometimes hope and hard work is all we have and we simply have to keep going and do what we have to do, that she would relay our messages to our father in the hospital as well as his messages back to us, and that we should get back to work and remain hopeful that our father would come back home to our family.

Amen to what you learned. Staying busy with other things is definitely a good way to deal with whatever may or may not be on your plate. Keep moving forward may be the best advice there is especially after something bad has taken place. Just keep moving forward and who knows? Maybe something good will be the next thing to be in front of you.

God bless you always!!!

Holly