The Sandbox
The Sandbox
Here is your Friday story,
"The Sandbox"
A little boy was spending his Saturday morning playing in his sandbox. He
had with him his box of cars and trucks, his plastic pail, and shiny, red
plastic shovel. In the process of creating roads and tunnels in the soft
sand, he discovered a large rock in the middle of the sandbox.
The lad dug around the rock, managing to dislodge it from the dirt. With
no little bit of struggle, he pushed and nudged the rock across the
sandbox by using his feet. (He was a very small boy and the rock was very
large.) When the boy got the rock to the edge of the sandbox, however, he
found that he couldn't roll it up and over the wall.
Determined, the little boy shoved, pushed, and pried, but every time he
thought he had made some progress, the rock tipped and then fell back into
the sandbox.
The little boy grunted, struggled, pushed, and shoved. But his only reward
was to have the rock roll back, smashing his fingers.
Finally he burst into tears of frustration. All this time the boy's father
watched from his living room window as the drama unfolded. At the moment
the tears fell, a large shadow fell across the boy and the sandbox. It was
the boy's father.
Gently but firmly he said, "Son, why didn't you use all the strength you
had available?"
Defeated, the boy sobbed back, "But I did, Daddy, I did! I used all the
strength that I had!"
"No, son," corrected the father kindly, "you didn't use all the strength
you had. You didn't ask me for help."
With that the father reached down, picked up the rock, and removed it from
the sandbox.
It is amazing what we can accomplish if we just ask for a little help.
Author Unknown
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