Saturday, August 1, 2015

The Five Frogs.

Five frogs once lived along a large stream. Every day, they'd splash and play in the glorious surf at the edges. Surely, the water was clean and refreshing, just as the new fallen rain from a thunderstorm. These five frogs yearned for adventure and desperately wanted to sail down stream. For many months, they built a raft made of leaves, twigs and grass. Each day, they'd spin a new piece of rope to tie the parts together. Many moons came and went, but finally, their water craft was complete. Never had a group of creatures made such a handsome sailing vessel. As their day for adventure drew near, the frogs began to decide who would do what. Two frogs were required to paddle the raft. One frog had to steer the rudder. One frog had to man the sail. Finally, a frog was needed to navigate. Since the waters were uncharted, this was perhaps the most important job of all. One of the frogs was bold and daring; he demanded that the navigation job be his. The other frogs asserted their concerns, making sure that he was up to the task. Repeatedly, this frog said he could navigate. So, the other frogs relented and let him have the responsibility.

As launch day came, everyone took their position on the raft. Before long, the frogs were many miles down stream. Eventually, the stream connected to a river. Much to their surprise, the frogs were rushing down a fast moving body of water. The frogs were concerned that impending danger was soon to ruin their adventure. Looking to the navigator for consolation, he reassured them that they were on the right path.

The rushing river quickly morphed into a set of raging rapids. The frogs were tossed about ferociously. As the treacherous waters twisted at their craft, it soon started to wobble and shake. Pieces began to fall off. One by one, the frogs were knocked off the raft. First the frog manning the rudder, then the frog handling the sail. The two frogs working the paddles soon followed suit -- they all fell crashing into the violent waves. As what was left of the frogs' raft floated through the rapids, it eventually came to rest upon a river bank. Only the navigator remained. His friends were all gone, never to be seen again. The navigator dragged what remained of their raft onto dry land. There, under the broken vessel, the frog sat in mourning, forever croaking of his grief.

Rotten tree, truth to follow
Fallen fortune, hard to swallow
Life undone, pitch black hollow
Empty heart, crown of sorrow


Don't let pride get in the way of common sense.
Never claim you can do something which you don't know how to do.
There is no shame in not knowing.

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