Is God good or Bad? The first thing when it comes to many of our minds is good. This is not so at all the time. Sometime when we are at sorrow like when someone nearer to us was taken away permanently, we feel that god is bad. I am going to tell a short story. There was a family with a father, mother and a kid. In that family suddenly the kid died due to an accident and everyone was feeling very bad and his mother was even scolding the god and telling that god is very bad by taking her only kid. In somewhere distance at the same time a child is born and everybody is thanking god for the good for bringing a new life to the world. Now coming to the family, After a year the lady who lost her kid gives birth to a baby. The family is thanking god for giving her a new child. So my question is the same person who said god is bad at a certain point of life says god is good. Did god suddenly change from bad to good or good to bad? No. It is the maturity which is achieved by experiences in life which teaches us good and bad.
Once upon a time two brothers, who lived on adjoining farms, fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a conflict.
Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.
One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's tool box.
"I'm looking for a few days' work" he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help with? Could I help you?" "Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you."
"Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor; in fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll do him one better."
"See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence --an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place or his face anymore."
The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."
The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.
The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing.
About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.
The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge -- a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all -- and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming toward them, his hand outstretched. "You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done."
The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand.
They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox onto his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.
"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, but I have many more bridges to build.
One day Maths teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.
That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual.
On Monday she gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling. 'Really?' she heard whispered. 'I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!' and, 'I didn't know others liked me so much,' were most of the comments.
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on.
Several years later, one of the students was killed in
'Kargil' war and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student. She had never attended Funeral of a serviceman before. He looked so handsome, so mature.
The place was packed with his friends. One by one those who loved him took a last walk. The teacher was the last one to bless .
As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her. 'Were you Sanjay's math teacher?' he asked. She nodded: 'yes.' Then he said: 'Sanjay talked about you a lot..'
After the funeral, most of Sanjay's former classmates were there. Sanjay's mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.
'We want to show you something,' his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket 'They found this on Sanjay when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it.'
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Sanjay's classmates had said about him.
'Thank you so much for doing that,' Sanjay's mother said. 'As you can see, Sanjay treasured it.'
All of Sanjay's former classmates started to gather around. Arjun smiled rather sheepishly and said, 'I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home.'
Prithwiraj's wife said, ' Prithwiraj asked me to put his in our wedding album.'
'I have mine too,' Rashmi said. 'It's in my diary'
Then Deepali, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. 'I carry this with me at all times,' Deepali said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: 'I think we all saved our lists'
That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Sanjay and for all his friends who would never see him again.
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be.
So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.
Moral:
What you put into the lives of others comes back into your own