Buckets of Love

During our morning bakes my great-grandfather and I would watch as the day begins. Some of the townsfolk would gather at the watering hole to get their day’s supply of fresh water, some would do laundry, some just hung out.

One morning, two young men both left the watering hole -- each carrying two full buckets of water, one in each arm. The bigger, taller young man sped home while the smaller one took his time getting to his destination.
“Both young men are trying to fill up the same size of water barrel, which of the two will get it done more quickly?” Grampa asked.
“That’s easy” I said, the taller one. “Think again.”
I thought about it, already sure in my mind that the taller and faster young man would get the barrel filled first.

As we watched, it took the smaller young man two trips to fill up his barrel. It took the taller one five trips to fill up his. In his rush, the taller one didn’t notice that most of the water had spilled out before he reached his destination. The smaller one placed a lid on his buckets.
Upon Grampa telling me the moral of the scene, my great-grandmother passed by us carrying a big bucket as she headed towards the watering hole. Grampa winked at me and smiled. I excused myself and got up to take the bucket from Gramma.

For all the grumbling I had done in the past about carrying water back and forth, from that day on I happily fetched water for Gramma while thinking about Grampa’s smile.

Patience and the Rice Field

During rice planting season, water from the local river is allowed to overflow into our rich fields to where about three to five inches of water is covering the top of the ground. The water is replenished until the land is of a muddy consistency. The fields are ready when you can grab a handful of dirt and mold it pretty much into anything you want. The fields are divided into square sections separated only by handmade land barriers where people would normally walk.

One year, as my grampa was showing me how to test the ground, a huge catfish swam by. I immediately ran after it, trying my hardest to catch the fish with my bare hands. I did this for about 10 minutes falling exhausted on my knees before grampa finally said something.
“Where is he” Grampa said. “Over there on the corner”
“Here, help me barricade him” he instructed as he started to create a wall around the catfish.
“Okay, so once we barricade him, He won’t get a chance to go all over the place and I won’t have to chase him as much” I thought to myself.

When the barricade was completed, I jumped inside and began chasing after the fish.
Ten minutes later --- exhausted --- Grampa looked at me with a wink and a smile.
He motioned me to follow what he was doing --- taking water out from inside the barricade. After about five minutes, we successfully emptied the water and I was able to pick up the fish where it laid.

I wish I would have had the insight then to discern the importance of this lesson. Imagine where I’d be today...