[Faith-talk] Daily Thought for Wednesday, September 10, 2014

[Paul]

Hello and good day to most of you this second time around.  I hope and pray as always that, by God's grace and His providential care, that you are all doing well.

Today's article also is anonymous, but it illustrates the principle of not hurrying through life.  Even though it is not strictly a Christian article, I think we can learn something from it.  Don't forget to read or listen through to the end, as it has a bit of a cliffhanger.  The article in question is entitled "If We Had Hurried" and is rendered as follows:

There once was a fellow who, with his dad, farmed a little piece of land.  Several times a year they would load up the old ox-drawn cart with vegetables and go into the nearest city to sell their produce.  Except for their name and the patch of ground, father and son had little in common.  The old man believed in taking it easy.  The boy was usually in a hurry, the go-getter type.

One morning, bright and early, they hitched up the ox to the loaded cart and started on the long journey.  The son figured that if they walked faster, kept going all day and night, they'd make the market by early the next morning.  So he kept prodding the ox with a stick, urging the beast to get a move on.

"Take it easy, son," said the old man.  "You'll last longer."

"But if we get to the market ahead of the others, we'll have a better chance of getting good prices," argued the son.

No reply.  Dad just pulled his hat down over his eyes and fell asleep on the seat.  Itchy and irritated, the young man kept goading the ox to walk faster.  His stubborn pace refused to change.

Four hours and four miles down the road, they came to a little house.  The father woke up, smiled and said, "Here's your uncle's place.  Let's stop in and say hello."

"But we've lost an hour already," complained the hotshot.

"Then a few more minutes won't matter.  My brother and I live so close, yet we see each other so seldom," the father answered slowly.

The boy fidgeted and fumed while the two men laughed and talked away almost an hour.

On the move again, the man took his turn leading the ox.  As they approached a fork in the road, the father led the ox to the right.

"The left is the shorter way," said the son.

"I know it," replied the old man, "But this way is so much prettier."

"Have you know respect for time?" the young man asked impatiently.

"Oh, I respect it very much! That's why I like to look at beauty and enjoy each moment to the fullest."

The winding path led through graceful meadows, wildflowers, and along a rippling stream--all of which the young man missed as he churned within, preoccupied and boiling with anxiety.  He didn't even notice how lovely the sunset was that day.

Twilight found them in what looked like a huge, colorful garden.  The old man breathed in the aroma, listened to the bubbling brook, and pulled the ox to a halt.  "Let's sleep here," he sighed.

"This is the last trip I'm taking with you," snapped his son.  "You're more interested in watching sunsets and smelling flowers than in making money!"

"Why, that's the nicest thing you've said in a long time," smiled the dad.  A couple of minutes later he was snoring--as the boy glared back at the stars.  The night dragged slowly; the son was restless.

Before sunrise the young man hurriedly shook his father awake.  They hitched up and went on.  About a mile down the road they happened upon another farmer--a total stranger--trying to pull his cart out of a ditch.

"Let's give him a hand," whispered the old man.

"And lose more time?" the boy exploded.

"Relax, son, you might be in a ditch sometime yourself.  We need to help others in need--don't forget that." The boy looked away in anger.

It was almost eight o'clock that morning by the time the other cart was back on the road.  Suddenly, a great flash split the sky.  What sounded like thunder followed.  Beyond the hills, the sky grew dark.

"Looks like big rain in the city," said the old man.

"If we had hurried, we'd be almost sold out by now," grumbled his son.

"Take it easy.  You'll last longer.  And you'll enjoy life so much more," counseled the kind old gentleman.

It was late in the afternoon by the time they got to the hill overlooking the city.  They stopped and stared down at it for a long, long time.  Neither of them said a word.  Finally, the young man put his hand on his father's shoulder and said, "I see what you mean, Dad."

They turned their cart around and began to roll slowly away from what had once been the City of Hiroshima.

You older readers, do you see what I mean when I said this would have a cliffhanger ending? So, in some cases, it doesn't pay to hurry.

Let me tell you a story to end this daily thought article, and this is a true one.  In August 1981 I was in Warsaw, Poland, having spent the last two weeks attending the 49th International Congress of Blind Esperantists that took place in Zagreb, Croatia.  Following this gathering we took a train north to what eventually we would be Warsaw, stopping several days in Budapest, Hungary to visit some friends of mine, and later on in Warsaw.  (By "we" I mean my guide Ed and the undersigned).  Then came the day when we took a cab to the airport.  We were scheduled to board a certain Lot Polish Airlines plane for the trip to New York City for a connecting flight to Baltimore.  However that flight was overbooked, and we had to wait about 45 minutes for the next flight.  Well, as you might guess, there was a lot of grumbling on the part of passengers that also were to take that earlier flight.  We had to land in Gander, Newfoundland because of some hydraulic problem, so the airline put us all up in a rather quaint wooden hotel called the Albatross.  Well, being the curious guy that I am, I turned on the radio to listen to the CBC news.  One of the items got my attention when the announcer said that a New York-bound Polish airliner was lost to radar screens approximately 200 miles east of Cape Race, Newfoundland, with no trace whatsoever.  If we had been on that flight.... Well, I wouldn't be here today.  God surely had His hand on all of us.  I bet there wasn't any grumbling when the rest of the passengers heard that.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, in these last days in which we live.  Lord willing, tomorrow there will be another daily thought article for you.  Your Christian friend and brother, Paul