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"The Law of the Garbage Truck"

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A couple of years ago,  I learned this lesson. I learned it in the back of a New York City taxi cab. Here’s what happened. I hopped in a taxi, and we took off for Grand Central Station. We were driving in the right lane when, all of a sudden, a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car’s back end by just inches! The driver of the other car, the guy who almost caused a big accident, whipped his head around and he started yelling bad words at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was friendly. So, I said, “Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!” And this is when my taxi driver told me what I now call,   “The Law of the Garbage Truck.” Many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need
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"The man, the boy and the donkey"

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"The old man, the boy and the donkey" A Man and his Son were once driving their Donkey along a country road, to sell him at the fair. They soon passed some girls, who were drawing water at a well. "Look," said one of the girls; "see those silly people trudging along in the dust, while their Donkey walks at his ease." The Man heard what they said, and put his boy on the Donkey’s back. They had not gone far before they came to some old men. "See here, now," said one of them to the others, "this shows that what I said is true. Nowadays the young take no care of the old. See this boy riding while his poor old father has to walk by his side." Hearing this, the Man told his Son to get down, and he mounted the Donkey himself. In a little while they met three women with children in their arms. "For shame!" said the women. "How can you let that poor boy walk when he looks so tired, and you ride like
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"The Cracked Pot"

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A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years, this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own  imperfection and  miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you”.  The bearer asked, “Why? What are you ashamed of?”  The Pot replied, “For t
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