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There  was  once  a  very  old  man,  whose  eyes had become dim, his ears dull of hearing, his knees trembled, and when he sat at table he could hardly hold the spoon, and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let it run out of his mouth.  His son and his son’s wife  were disgusted at this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner behind  the  stove,  and  they  gave  him  his  food  in  an earthenware bowl, and not  even enough  of it. And he used to  look  towards the table with his eyes full of tears. Once, too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and  it  fell to  the  ground  and  broke.  The  young  wife scolded him, but he said  nothing and only sighed. Then they brought him a wooden bowl  for a few half-pence, out of which he had to eat.
They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of four years old began to gather together some bits of wood upon the ground.  ‘What are you doing there?’ asked the father. ‘I am making a little  trough,’ answered the child,
‘for father and mother to eat out of when I am big.’
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The man and his wife looked at each other for a while, and  presently began  to  cry.  Then   they  took  the  old grandfather to the table, and henceforth always let him eat with them, and likewise said nothing if he did spill a little of anything.

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Anonim mengatakan...

tlng dunk d srtai gambar................

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