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     In a park in a small Midwest town, each day an old man was sitting on a bench, whittling on a piece of wood, and little Johnny, after seeing him there for several days came up to the old man and ask what are you doing with that old piece of wood?


    The old man replied Iím making a flute! 


    A flute, what is that Johnny asks? 


    The old man with tired blue eyes looked at Johnny, and replied if this is made right, the wood is good and sound, this will someday make beautiful music.  So each day Johnny would watch as the old man whittled on that piece of wood.


    The old man said this piece of wood must be worked with care and each hole must be the right size and grooved just right to make the proper note.


    One day when Johnny went to the park the old man was just setting there doing nothing but looking at that piece of wood that he had been carving for so long.


    As Johnny approached the old mans bench, he took his flute and started playing the most beautiful music Johnny had ever heard.


    Everyone in the park that day came over in a hushed mood to hear the old man play on that old piece of wood. That old piece of wood had become a beautiful musical instrument that literally sent tingles down Johnnyís spine as he listened to that old man play.


    Each day the people would gather there to hear and enjoy the music played on that old piece of wood. That old piece of wood had became a finished instrument that played such beautiful music for all to hear.


    One day sometime later Johnny went to the park and saw the old man just setting there with his hands in his lap. In one hand was his flute he had so craftily carved from that old piece of wood, and attached to it was a note. The old man just sat there motionless. Johnny could see no movement at all. Not knowing what to do, and very frightened, he ran home to get his mom.


    Upon returning, there gathered around the old man was a crowd of people. As Johnny approached, the crowd parted. Standing next to the old man was a police man holding the flute with the note attached.


    Seeing Johnny, the police man cleared his throat and handed Johnny the flute. Everyone became very quiet as the police man read the note.


    To my little friend Johnny;

You have watched me make this flute from a discarded old piece of wood that no one wanted. However, I could see something special in that old piece of discarded wood.


    Now, Johnny I give this to you, and always remember this. We, all of us have something very special to give, but first the master carver must find that special quality and work with it, so it makes beautiful music, as did this old discarded piece of wood that no one wanted. That master craftsman Johnny, is "THE LIVING GOD".


By Dale L. Neill of Lewiston, Idaho







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