THE OLD MAN AND DEATH

An old laborer, bent double with age and toil, was gathering sticks in the forest. At last he grew tired and hopeless that he threw down the bundle of sticks, and cried out:

“I cannot bear this life any longer. Ah, I wish Death would only come and take me!”

As he spoke, Death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to him:

“What wouldst thou, Mortal? I heard thee call me.”

“Please, sir,” replied the woodcutter, “would you kindly help me to lift this faggot of sticks onto my shoulder?”

Let’s be careful what we ask and confess, for we would often be sorry if our wishes were gratified. Remember never too say before God that it was a joke, because it would be accounted as sin unto you. God does not joke.

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