The Deception of "Self" Control

WARNING: This is NOT a book report. These are some thoughts that I had, and felt the need to write. If you are looking for a book report, this is not it.

DISCLAIMER: Anything I say in the following is not meant to offend anybody. These are simply my opinions and random thoughts that I had throughout the day.

Okay with that aside.....

Every now and then, I get inspired to write something. Not very often as you can tell by my blog, and how often I post things. But occasionally  I do. Recently, I've felt the need to write about self control. It's something that I struggle with every day. I am constantly faced with a battle between the temptation to do something, and the self control to say "No" to it. Whether it be eating one more cookie, or not talking to someone online even though I REALLY want to. The only problem with me writing about something though, is that I tend to ramble sometimes...so bare with me. Here we go:

I guess I'll start by explaining what I think self control really is. Most people think of self control as the ability to control what you do (or don't do), and when you do it, all by yourself, without any help. But I think that there is more to self control than what meets the eye. Self control is not just controlling what you do it's also controlling what you think and say. I'm sure you've heard (at least a variation of) the quote, "Carefully watch your thoughts, for they become your words. Manage and watch your words, for they will become your actions. Consider and judge your actions, for they have become your habits. Acknowledge and watch your habits, for they shall become your values. Understand and embrace your values, for they become your destiny." (Mahatma Gandhi)

We are even warned in Proverbs 4:23 to guard our thoughts, "Be careful what you think, because your thoughts run your life."

Self Control does not start with our actions, it starts much much sooner, with our thoughts. We all slip here. We all have thoughts that we wish we could have avoided. Sometimes they are about a certain Judge we had at a Speech and Debate Tournament, sometimes they are about a particular person we saw in a store, sometimes they are about our friends and family, and sometimes even about ourselves. Having the self control to only think about certain things is incredibly difficult. Any little instance might spur a thought about something that you have been trying to control. And eventually if you think a distinct way for long enough, you will start to say things that you wish you could have controlled. I say things all the time that I wish I could take back. Again if we look at the Bible we find James chapter 3 talks about the controlling of our tongues. He writes about the effect of the tongue on the body saying, "We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect, able to keep their whole body in check." (James 3:2) And then he goes on to talk about the double sided nature of a tongue, "Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be." (James 3:10)

Controlling our tongues is almost as difficult as controlling our thoughts. But it is harder than controlling our actions. Sometimes it is easy to tell yourself not to eat another cookie, or to distract yourself with school (or speeches) so you won't spend too much time online. It isn't always easy, there are times when I think I simply can not control my actions. And there are times when I actually can't control myself...or I simply give in to the temptation to do whatever it might be. But I definitely control my actions better than I control my words, and I control my words better than I control my thoughts. Debaters can think of it as a slippery slope, one leads to another, until eventually you end at Hitler and world domination. (haha)

When looking things up about self control, I found a quote that made me stop and think. “Those who restrain desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.” (William Blake) At first I thought, "Well, that's wrong. I have a really strong desire to lots of things, but I'm able to control myself." But that's the point then, isn't it. What I think of as a "really strong desire" must not really be that strong or I would choose to ignore the feeling that I should say no. What we place our desires in, end up being the things that tempt us most. If we are not tempted to eat another cookie, then we must not actually have that strong of a desire to eat it. Self Control is even deeper than your thoughts, self control dwells in your heart. What you desire. If you desire something enough from your heart, then you think about it more, and if you think about it more, you talk about it more, and if you talk about it more, you do something about it more. So really, self control begins with what you desire.

Now, can we, changing and fickle people, actually obtain self control? Or is it a gift? Is self control not truly controlled by ourselves? Is it controlled by something far more powerful than us? We know that we are tempted when we desire friends, and wealth, and worldly possessions. But what if we desire something far more? What if we desire a relationship with the Lord? Well, Deuteronomy 4:29 tells us, "But if from thence thou shalt seek the LORD thy God, thou shalt find [him], if thou seek him with all thy heart and with all thy soul." If we seek (or desire) a relationship with God, we will find him. We should desire God as David desired God, "I delight to do thy will, O my God: yea, thy law [is] within my heart." (Psalms 40:8) If God is first in our heart, having "self" control will come easier, because God is in our desire, we would think about God, we would talk about God, and we would act in a righteous fashion. You might be thinking, "Yes, but even David was tempted, and so was Job, and so many others who desired God. I desire God." Yes, they were all tempted, but if you notice God was with them all throughout their temptations. Everyone falls. But that doesn't mean that we can't get back up.

I don't know if there truly is "Self" Control. I think that controlling our desires requires us to know and trust the Lord. He can overcome any temptation we might have. If we are tempted by something, anything, having a desire for the Lord, and trusting Him, can overcome the temptation. Giving our burdens to Him, will relieve our minds of the task, and allow us to continue focusing on the Lord. It is my opinion (and I fully accept that I could be completely wrong about this) that "Self" Control is a deception. Something we tell ourselves we should have so that we feel powerful. Society considers self control as a trait of a mature person. But the control doesn't come from us, it comes from God, who is infinitely more powerful and righteous than we are. When we truly give our hearts and desires to the Lord, He will guide our thoughts, and in turn our words and our actions. He will shine through everything we do.

Maria Anna Mozart

Hello Everyone! Yes, it's been awhile. But! I'm working on several new posts, because thankfully SUMMER IS HERE! And I now have more time to read. (Not just for school!) In the meantime, I thought I would share with you all my Biographical Narrative speech from the NCFCA 2011-2012 season. I placed 11th at Nationals with this speech my first year, and had so much fun with it. I was really disappointed to hear that they are replacing BN with Informative Speaking, but times change. So anyway, I hope you enjoy!

 

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"Remind me to leave something good for the horns."

These are the words of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart when he was 8 years old, according to the book “For the Love of Music” by Elizabeth Rusch. (Rusch 11)  They were spoken to his sister while composing his first symphony. Before Mozart was even able to pen his compositions she was there to help him.  Mozart spoke music into words, his sister wrote the music on paper and while Mozart’s brilliance would increase - his sister would  fade into history, dimmed by the proximity of one of the brightest musical lights of all time. And yet, she was the one who held him, fed him, and played with him. In her day, she was an even greater musician than he was.

Before Wolfgang, all eyes looked upon her in wonderment. Before Wolfgang, she was the adoration of her father, before Wolfgang, she was Maria Anna Mozart.

Born in 1751, Maria was the 4th child of Leopold and Anna Mozart. But even before her birth, Maria's life was a series of losses. Her previous three siblings had all died within months of their birth. So when Maria made it past her first year, she became the prize of the family.

Maria lived through the loss of two more siblings and then in 1756 - when she was five - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born. As a toddler, Wolfgang, unable to pronounce her name, simply called her Nannerl or nanny. To this day, those who are aware of her, know her as Nannerl.

Her father, Leopold was a court musician in Salzburg. He began Maria's musical instruction when she was seven. Immediately, her talent and natural gifts shone brightly. Her father gave her all his attention and formed her into a brilliant pianist. He would show her off at parties and amaze people around Europe with her perfect technique and quality of work. Watching, listening, and mimicking all of this was Wolfgang. The two of them would play for hours in a secret Kingdom they had created. Wolfgang sat with Maria at her lessons. Often Maria would include Wolfgang in her studies - as if they were composing together.

An article on the Smithsonian website states: “In 1760 words such as "Virtuosic", "Prodigy", and "Genius" were used to describe Mozart - Maria Anna Mozart.” (http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/Maria-Anna-Mozart-The-Familys-First-Prodigy.html?c=y&page=1)

“My little girl plays the most difficult works which we have … with incredible precision and so excellently,” writes her father in 1764.

“What it all amounts to is this, that my little girl...is one of the most skillful players in Europe.” (http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/Maria-Anna-Mozart-The-Familys-First-Prodigy.html?c=y&page=1)

Then one day, when Wolfgang was 4 he pulled himself up to his sister's harpsichord, sat on the bench where she had sat for so many years and hesitantly, but correctly, fingered the notes to a minuet that Maria had been playing earlier. This little spirited boy whom she loved with all her heart had just changed the rest of her life, and indeed the future of music for centuries to come, simply by tapping out a simple melody.

From this point on, as Maria would open her Notebook, known today as Nannerl’s Notebook, to perfect her training, she would find notes from her father; not about her playing, but about Wolfgang's efforts.

"Wolfgang learned the preceding 8 minuets in his 4th year."

"Wolfgang learned this minuet and trio in half-an-hour .. one day before his 5th birthday."

You might think you know this story. Perhaps you have heard it a thousand times before. One child overlooked by his parents while his sibling goes on to become the apple of their parents' eye. The child becomes resentful and bitter and does everything they can to destroy their sibling's success. But is this a story worth hearing?

But that is not this story. This is a story of a girl who lost the things most precious to her throughout her life and still remained a humble servant to her family. This is a story of a woman who worked for the success of the very person who had cost her her place in her father's eyes and in history. This is a story of a quiet strength and beauty, manifested from a brilliant musician who stifled her dreams and applied herself to the career her brother. This is a story worth telling.

For three years Leopold, Maria, and Wolfgang performed for royalty in to the most spectacular cities of Europe. The three of them were star attractions, but as the trip continued, it became clear that most of the applause was for the young boy, Wolfgang. The words of praise that used to be spoken about Maria were now being spoken about Wolfgang.

At one point, she stood by her father as Joseph Haydn approached and according to wordpress.com said, "I tell you before God, and as an honest man, your son is the greatest composer known to me by person and repute." (http://jamesesz.wordpress.com/2011/09/14/wolfgang-amadeus-mozart/)

Perhaps inside she was crying out to her father, "Remember me? Remember when I was the light of your eye?" Instead, she committed herself to the music tour and did her part to make sure that all who heard the young Wolfgang, came away remembering a genius at work.

After one of Wolfgang's performances he announced that he had just played a piece composed by his sister - an event the enraged their father. She would be instructed by her father that she was not to play the violin any more. That would be reserved for Wolfgang. Also, her compositions became suppressed. Wolfgang urged Maria to defy their father and play the violin or attempt to publicly play her own music. But, Maria remained faithful in honoring her father.

Can you imagine? Just try, try to imagine yourself as Maria, how would you feel? What would you choose? Would you choose to defy your father as your brother encouraged, or would you choose to honor your father as Maria did?

When she turned 18, she was no longer allowed to accompany her father and brother on their musical tours. Her attention should be spent preparing for marriage and teaching piano to students. The money she earned in this endeavor was then used to support Wolfgang's travels.

Finally, at 31 years old, it looked like once again, she would become the apple of someone's eye. She had fallen in love with Franz d'Ippold, who was a captain and private tutor. But when Franz proposed to Maria, her father stepped in and asked Maria not to marry him. Once again, Wolfgang attempted, in vain, to get Maria to stand up for her own preference. Once again, Maria honored her father and instead married Johann Baptist Franz von Berchtold at her father's request.

Maria survived the death of her infant siblings, she endured her Mother's death, and in 1787, she watched as her father slipped away.  In the end, it was Maria, not Wolfgang, standing at his father’s grave. Eventually, she would also live through the death of her husband and one of her children.

Then, one day, Maria received news of the death of her precious Wolfie.  This seems like a proper ending. The daughter remaining faithful to her father to his very death.  The work for her brother finally finished.  But, Maria’s story is not yet over.

She moved back to Salzburg with her children and as her sight began to fade, made her greatest contribution yet to the longevity of her brother's career: she began to compile a complete listing of his works, his letters, his words, and his thoughts. His dreams had become her dreams, and now she would insure that there was no chance of these dreams dying with her brother.

Perhaps some would say Maria Anna Mozart has gone down in history as someone who was too subdued to claim what was hers - to stand up for her dreams. History even remembers her as a little girl - Nannerl. But,  I see a girl who blossomed into a woman, who knew who she was, and who spent her life putting her family first.  She served them with her whole heart and rejoiced in their brilliance.  She magnified and reflected their light for the world to see and throughout her years remained humble and faithful to her family.  She worked in silence and in the background between the notes of Leopold and Wolfgang, but as her brother once said,

“The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.”

(http://www​.goodreads​.com/autho​r/quotes/2​2051.Wolfg​ang_Amadeu​s_Mozart)

There will be Him

There will be snow. There will be rain.

There will be loss. There will be gain.

There will be joy. There will be pain.

But through it all, there will be Him.

 

He will seek you. He will find you.

He will hold you. He will guide you.

He will teach you. He will mold you.

And through it all, He will love you.

 

There will be mountains. There will be plains.

There will be virtue. There will be stains.

There will be alleys. There will be lanes.

But through it all, there will be Him.

 

He will strengthen you. He will test you.

He will hear you. He will tell you.

He will see you. He will help you.

And through it all, He will love you.

 

There will be sunshine. There will be shadows.

There will be silence. There will be echos.

There will be friends. There will be foes.

But through it all, there will be Him.

 

He will treasure you. He will guard you.

He will lift you. He will cradle you.

He will free you. He will claim you.

And through it all, He will love you.

 

There will be laughter. There will be tears.

There will be courage. There will be fears.

There will be peace. There will be spears.

But through it all, there will be Him.

The Canterbury Tales

             Sorry I haven't written anything in a while! I've been crazy busy! But here is another school assignment I had to write on the Canterbury Tales. Enjoy! As always feel free to make comments or suggestions!

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            The Canterbury Tales is a book written about 29 pilgrims on their way to a town called Canterbury. Each of the pilgrims tell his/her own tale in order to make their long trek more entertaining. Through this essay one will be informed of the Christian values seen in the Pardoner’s Tale and the Nun’s Priest’s Tale as well as the inconsistencies and/or relationships between the two tales and their corresponding narrators.

The first tale is that of the Pardoner. The moral of the Pardoner’s Tale is: “The love of money is the root of all evil”. The Pardoner tells a story of three, drunk, young men who meet an old man and ask him where “Death” is. The old man sends them down a lane where they find eight bushels of gold coins, which they decide to keep. They decide to wait for night to move the gold and draw straws to see which one will go into town to get food and wine. The youngest of the three draws the shortest straw. When he leaves, the two others decide to kill him and keep his money. The youngest, however, wanting the treasure to himself, buys poison, which he adds to two of the bottles of wine he purchases. When the youngest reveler approaches the tree, the two others stab him and then sit down to drink the wine before they dispose of his body. Thus, all three indeed find “Death”. And one can see “The love of money, or greed, is veritably the root of all evil”.

           In comparison to the Pardoner’s tale, one finds his life role, or job, is to preach to others and help them rid themselves of their sin. A deeper look into the Pardoner’s life, however, reveals he does not exactly do this. He is a confident man operating a game that still flourishes — manipulating people's religious gullibility. Like many others after him, he uses a real rhetorical gift to "stir the people to devotion" (line 346) so they will give their pennies to him. Here we see he practices the very thing he preaches against: greed. Also, in contrast to the valuable tale he tells, his appearance is described as a rather disgusting person having “hair as yellow as wax” (line 675) “thin they dropped, and stringy, one by one.” (line 679). You get the feeling he is a shady character even before you know he cheats people by the description of his eyes; “And shiny eyes he had as has a hare.” (line 684) One can see though the Pardoner’s tale may be one of virtue, and though his job is one of uprightness, his actions and his appearance prove he is only a man of greed.

            Like the first tale discussed, this second tale, The Nun’s Priest’s Tale, also shows its listeners a strong moral. Though, it is slightly hidden in the comical “beast fable”. A beast fable is a story which has animals acting like humans to help illustrate a moral. The value learned through the Priest’s fable is: flattery blindsides those who allow pride to consume them. The fable is about a grand cock who has a dream about a fox. The cock later sees a fox nearby, and starts to run away, but the fox tells him gently he is merely there to hear the cock’s beautiful voice. The cock flattered by the fox wishing to hear him, shuts his eyes and starts to sing. But as soon as he does the fox clamps his mouth down upon the cock’s neck. The hens raised such a riot that soon the entire farm was chasing after the fox. The cock suggests to the fox to turn around and shout insults at his pursuers. The fox, then opens his mouth, and the cock escapes to a treetop. The fox tries once again to lure the cock down by compliments and flattery, but the cock has learned his lesson.

Contrasting with the Pardoner and his tale, the Nun’s Priest and his tale are both very similar. Like the Pardoner, the Nun’s Priest’s job reflects his tale. It goes without saying the Nun’s Priest, is a Priest. As far as one can tell the Nun’s Priest is a very righteous man. There is not much revealed about him in the General Prologue, however in the Prologue to the Nun’s Priest’s tale the reader is given a brief description of him, “This gentle priest, this kindly man Sir John” (line 2820). The Host of the pilgrims, Harry Bailly, hints a little towards the Priest’s appearance, “a nag you have to ride. So what if you've a horse both foul and lean?” (lines 2812-2813) From this one gleans the impression the Nun’s Priest is not very wealthy. Once again contrasting to the Pardoner the Nun’s Priest’s actions and appearance lead one to conclude he practices what he preaches.

            Conclusively, both the Pardoner and the Nun’s Priest present tales with strong Christian values within them. Also both of the narrator’s life role, or job, relates back to their story. And while the Pardoner’s actions and appearance greatly contrast with his tale and job, the Nun’s Priest’s actions and appearance coincide with the clever fable he told.

Homework Assignment - Modern Beowulf

Okay so this is not very good, but I thought I'd embarrass myself anyway, and post it. Seeing as though I just posted about Beowulf. So please note that this has really pretty much nothing to do with the old Beowulf. And I still think you should read the real Beowulf. (Because unlike this one.....IT'S REALLY GOOD)

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This is a children’s story. Though older people may like it. It is a modern retelling of the old tale Beowulf. A story of danger, bravery, monsters, loyalty, and friendship. It was originally meant for older people, like teens or adults. But why keep younger children from reading classics? Why not write the old classic, in a more simple form? And in a way children can relate to. Well, today that is what I’m doing. I’m going to write a simpler form of Beowulf, the great classic story. Everything I’m about to tell you is all fictitious, for often that is what children are able to understand with perfect clarity.

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Somewhere in the world, let’s say in the city Geatville there is a boy. He is a strong boy. And when this boy was very young, he lived in a different town. The town Daneport. And this boy lived in someone else’s house, because he was very young. And the “someone else” lived in a large country house. A farm, I guess you could say. And this farm had all kinds of animals, and barns. It has cows, and horses, and pigs, and sheep, and of course dogs and cats. But the most prized animals there were the chickens. Yes, the chickens. See, these chickens were the prettiest chickens you ever did see! And the eggs they laid were so numerous, and perfect that everybody came there to buy eggs. Even if they had chickens themselves! The man who owned all this, his name was, Ezra Kemuel. Ezra was a good man, but he was getting old, and with age, comes weakness, and when you get weak, you aren’t able to keep up with all the work of a large farm like Ezra’s. But anyway let’s get back to our “young boy”. Let’s give him name. His name will be Ezekiel White. But most people just call him Zeke. Well, as we were saying, when Zeke was young he lived on this farm. He had just about as much fun there as a little boy could have on a farm! But when Zeke turned eleven he moved away, to go live with his Uncle Andrew and his Aunt Mercy. They did not live on a farm. No, they lived in a the huge city, Geatville. And though moving to a city was much different than living on a farm. Zeke wasn’t too upset. He liked the city just as much as Ezra’s farm. But Ezra was old now, and he had to sell almost everything. In fact Ezra sold everything except his beloved chickens. Those he kept. Well, a couple years went by until we get back the beginning of our story.

Somewhere in the world, let’s say in the city Geatville, there is a boy. He is a strong boy. And his name is Ezekiel White. But most people just call him Zeke. Zeke lives with his Uncle Andrew and his Aunt Mercy. And he lives a happy life with the two of them. And even here, in the busy city, people buy Ezra’s Eggs, in the local stores. We rejoin Zeke when he is now thirteen, at a crowded birthday party for friend where he has just heard some most unpleasant news.

“Wait! What did you just say?” Asked Zeke, in a very anxious tone of voice.

“I said that it’s really too bad.” Answered Jacob, he was the boy having the party.

“No, no. Before that.” Zeke clarified, “You said something about Ezra’s Eggs.”

“Oh, that? I said that Old Ezra is currently unable to sell any eggs.” Jacob did not seem too concerned about it, after all there were plenty of other egg sellers out there.

Zeke, although he was thirteen and should be able to control himself, was having a very hard time staying calm. “Why can’t he sell eggs? Won’t people buy them anymore?”

“Well, yes I suppose people would buy them...if he could get any eggs anymore.” It was irritating to Zeke at how uninterested Jacob sounded. “But he can’t collect any eggs from his chickens anymore, because there is a fox that’s scaring them all so bad that they won’t lay any eggs. It’s being said that the fox has actually killed about fifteen of Ezra’s chickens. Too bad ancient Ezra is so ancient. He’s helpless before that sly fox. They’ve even given the fox a name! Can you imagine! Giving a fox a name just for eating some chickens! They say his name is Nigel, which means Dark.” It was easy to tell that Jacob thought that the whole thing was boring. But to Zeke, it was crisis that must be stopped!

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As soon as Zeke was back home, he ran to his Aunt and Uncle. He told them the whole story, and by the time he was done he had thought of a possible solution.

“What if I go and help Ezra! I could trap Nigel the fox, I know I could! Ezra would be there to protect me! I would be alright really!” This was very important to Zeke. He wanted Ezra to be able to continue to sell his eggs. Otherwise he might have to sell the farm! And then Zeke couldn’t go visit anymore!

Uncle Andrew was willing to let him try, but Aunt Mercy wasn’t sure about the idea. “If Ezra can’t even take care of his own chickens, how is he supposed to protect you, Zeke?”

“I think that Zeke is old enough to take care of himself.” Uncle Andrew replied for Zeke. “Ezra will keep him from doing foolish things. And as long as Zeke is being smart, he should be fine, Mercy.”

Zeke was getting excited now. “Please, Aunt Mercy!”

Aunt Mercy looked Zeke up and down, “All right, I’ll let you go. I’ll call Ezra tomorrow morning to let him know you’re coming. But you need to promise me something, Ezekiel White. You need to promise that you’ll be smart. Smarter than the fox, so that you’ll stay safe. You got that?”

“Yes, Aunt Mercy! I promise! Oh, Thank you both!” Replied Zeke as soon as the words were out of his Aunt’s mouth.

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He was really going! Zeke was on his way to Ezra Kemuel’s farm right now! He was going on a bus, because both Uncle Andrew and Aunt Mercy had to work and weren’t able to take him. But it was fine with Zeke, he was going on an adventure. He was going to trap Nigel, and save Ezra’s chickens. At least that’s what he hoped was going to happen. No one could really be sure if Nigel would strike again, although he seemed pretty consistent.

When Zeke finally arrived at the farm, he was a little disappointed. The farm that was so large, and fresh, and beautiful, in his memories. Was now, little more than a couple of run down barns, and old rickety house, all with the paint coming off. The only thing that looked brand new was the chicken coop. That at least looked as shiny as a bright, new dime. Zeke looked in the chicken yard, sure enough there were signs of a struggle. Nigel must have been there the night before.

Ezra’s house was up on a little hill, and all the barns were down below it. Zeke remembered that when he lived here only a few years ago, he would pretend that the house was a huge castle and that the barns made up the castle’s village. Now, however, it reminded him more of an crusty, western, ghost town. With the chicken coop being the well of the town. Both the well of that imaginary ghost town, and the chicken coop of this actual farm are needed to keep the people living there alive.

A figure walked out of the front door, as Zeke stood standing in the gravel road that led up to the house. Zeke recognised the man instantly as Ezra Kemuel. Oh, how Zeke missed that old farmer! He ran up the hill to meet Ezra, who was on his way down the hill. The two met on the hill and gave each other a hand shake, but Zeke couldn’t help giving Ezra a hug as well.

“I’m here to catch that fox, Mr. Kemuel! I’m going to trap him tonight when he comes for your chickens.” Stated Zeke.

The light that was so evident on Ezra’s face just moments ago, vanished at the mention of Nigel the fox. He spoke slowly, “How are you planning on doing that? Hmm?”

Zeke relayed his plan to Ezra with confidence, “Well, if you have a place to put the chickens tonight, other than in their coop, then I think I can catch Nigel tonight. If we move the chickens to another barn or something I could trick Nigel. I could stay up and watch the chicken coop, then when Nigel comes tonight I could quickly patch the hole he gets into, and then he would be trapped inside. Then I would put him into a cage, and then tomorrow morning we can bring him about ten miles away, and he won’t bother you anymore!”

Ezra smiled, “I will let you try, because it doesn’t sound too dangerous, but I’m not sure it will work.”

“Do you have a cage that I can use, Mr. Kemuel?” Asked Zeke , ignoring the fact that it might not work.

“Yes, follow me, I’ll show you.” Ezra was amused by Zeke’s anticipation to help.

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After Zeke looked over the cage and found it “satisfactory” he asked Ezra to show him where he could put the remaining 25 chickens to keep them safe. The answer was in the house. All the other barns were so full of holes you could look right through them. So in the house the chickens went, thankfully they were able to put all of the chickens in one room and shut the door. When that was finished Zeke went out to look around the chicken coop and yard, to see if he could find any holes that Nigel might use. He found four holes in the dirt that led into the chicken yard and the one that went into the actual coop. He filled in the four holes going into the chicken yard, but left the one going into the chicken coop, so that Nigel could still get in. The he set the cage with some bate right inside the coop in front of the hole, that way when Nigel went in, he wouldn’t be able to get away inside. Next Zeke shut all of the doors, just in case Nigel did happen to get of the cage. He was all set! He would hide in some nearby bushes to watch and wait for Nigel, and when he came he would run out of his hiding spot, and block the fox’s escape with wood. Now all he had to do was wait.

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Zeke waited, and waited, and waited. Finally the shadows of evening descended upon him like dark colored sheets. And yet, still he had to wait for Nigel to transpire from wherever it was that he sheltered himself all day. Not used to being up that late, Zeke started to fall asleep, it was boring just sitting there, not doing anything. But then without warning, he caught a glimpse of a something running swiftly towards the chicken coop. The night was filled with darkness, and it was almost impossible to see Nigel gliding among the grass. Zeke’s eyes were sharp, however, and so he was able to watch Nigel’s every move. Then Nigel did it. He went into the hole in the chicken coop! Out rushed Zeke to patch up the hole. He got there just in time, the fox was smart, and was able to tell immediately that something was wrong, so it had turned around and was about to jump back out of the hole when Zeke got there with his wood. He slammed it into place, and nailed it shut. Then he went around to the inside of the coop, where the fox had gone back into the cage, and was now starting to panic. Quickly Zeke moved the cage away from the wall enough to shut the door. He decided to leave Nigel in the cage, and leave the cage in the chicken coop, for the rest of the night. When he woke up tomorrow he would deal with the disposal of Nigel.

Zeke turned to go out of the coop, but there standing in his path was another fox! This one was bigger then Nigel, and it was a girl. It must be Nigel’s mother, thought Zeke. She must have been watching him through the bushes, and when she saw me come in after him, she followed me in! She was a beautiful creature. Her grey fur looked silver in the pale moonlight, and her eyes were an icy blue. She glared at Zeke in defiance. And promptly a name for this wonderful fox snapped into mind; Sapphire. If he could trap Sapphire in the chicken coop, while he searched for another cage, then he could probably catch her right now! But he would have to move fast. He would have to be smarter than the fox. First off, he had to get her to come towards him, instead of standing right in the doorway. He found a long, narrow piece of wood leaning against a wall. He slowly took hold of it. Sapphire was still staring at him with those cold eyes. With the wood in his hands, Zeke inched himself over to one side of Sapphire. For one second her eyes went to her son, Nigel, still trapped in his cage. In that second Zeke leaped across to the door, gently nudging Sapphire away with the wood, so he wouldn’t land on her. Sapphire realized her mistake too late, and found herself unable to escape. Quickly, Zeke closed the door, and ran to look for another cage he could use. It was almost dawn, and the rising light was dancing on fragile drops of dew. There! Zeke spotted a cage in the barn he used to play Tarzan in, over the hay. He snatched the cage, and hoped that Sapphire hadn’t been smart enough to dig her way back out. Or worse, free Nigel. Zeke had to be careful opening the door, because he didn’t want Sapphire to make a dash for freedom when he opened it. He slowly opened the door, and hopped inside. Amazingly, Sapphire was still there! She was pawing at the cage Nigel was in. She stopped when Zeke entered. Zeke had made sure to pick up some more bait on his way back to the chicken coop. He now set down the cage in front of him, and put the bait inside. Then he gradually moved it closer to Sapphire softly calling to her.

Sapphire was smart, however, and did not fall for this trick. She could see what had happened to her son, and did not want to fall upon the same fate. Instead she tried to dart around the cage and out the now open door. But Zeke was fast and he kicked the door shut with his foot, before Sapphire was able to exit. I have to be smarter then the fox, remembered Zeke. He thought for a moment. He placed the empty cage next to Nigel’s, then moved to go around Sapphire. He imagined himself as one of those big, tough, boxing guys he saw on TV once. Circling his opponent. When he had Sapphire positioned in front of the cage, he darted forward, causing Sapphire to jump backwards, right into the cage. Before she could react, Zeke had latched the cage shut. He had caught two foxes in one night.

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The next morning, Ezra and Zeke took the two hunters fifteen miles away from Ezra’s house. There they dumped Sapphire and Nigel in a forest, where they could live. Then they headed back to Ezra’s farm.

“Thank you, Ezekiel, I don’t know if I could’ve done that. I’m not what I used to be you know.” Sighed Ezra sadly.

“Yes, Mr. Kemuel, I know. But it was actually pretty fun!” Replied Zeke trying to keep the mood light.

Ezra laughed, “I bet it was! When we get back to the house I’ve got something I want to give you.”

“I don’t need anything for helping! I did it because I wanted to help you!” Zeke said quickly.

“Now, don’t give me that! I’m going to give you something if you want it or not! So sit tight.” That made Zeke be quiet for the rest of the trip.

Of course he wanted something. Doesn’t every boy want something in return for work? But he didn’t want to take advantage of an old man who didn’t have enough money to keep his farm together!

When they arrived back at the farm, Zeke followed Ezra into the house. They walked up two staircases to get into the attic. There was so much stuff up there, you could hardly move! Ezra went straight to one of the boxes, and opened it. Out of it he pulled a coonskin hat, a toy rifle, and some leather chaps.

“I want you to have these. They were mine when I was your age, and I played with them constantly.” Said Ezra with a hint of longing in his voice. A longing to be young and strong again.

Although Zeke was thirteen, he loved the items that were being passed to him. He responded to Ezra with genuine gratitude, “Thanks, Mr. Kemuel! I’ll keep them real nice, I promise!”

It was evident that this pleased Ezra, “You’re welcome. Now we should probably get you back on that bus and on your way back home. You don’t want your parents worrying.”

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And so, Ezekiel White became known throughout the countryside as the boy who saved Ezra’s chickens. Several years went by. Nine in fact. That would make Ezekiel twenty-two years old. And unfortunately, Ezra has passed away. But in his will he left what was left of his farm and his chickens to our boy, Zeke. Well, Zeke sold the farm, but kept the chickens. And with the money that he made on the farm, he bought a farm of his own outside of Geatville. It was nice farm, and had a great chicken coop on it already. And with that Zeke started selling eggs. Everyone around was talking about his eggs! People from miles away would come to buy Zeke’s Eggs. Zeke continued selling eggs for many more years. Twelve to be exact. That makes Ezekiel thirty-four. Uncle Andrew and Aunt Mercy were very old now, and being old, means you can get sick a lot easier. Which happened to Aunt Mercy. Aunt Mercy received some very disheartening news. She had cancer. And it was spreading quickly. She was beyond surgery at this point, and the treatment for her cancer would be extremely expensive. Uncle Andrew and Aunt Mercy did not have enough money to pay for her to be properly cared for. Zeke wasn’t about to sit back and let his Aunt die, because she didn’t have money to pay for medicine. The problem was, that he didn’t have enough money either. They were able to get by for a little while, by combining their money together. But that didn’t last very long. And Aunt Mercy wasn’t getting any better. Zeke thought and thought, about how to raise enough money to help his Aunt. Finally, he came up with an option. He didn’t like it, but it was his only choice. He told his idea to his Aunt and Uncle. They told him not to go through with it. It wasn’t worth it! The plan was worth it to Zeke though. So he did it. Zeke sold his farm. He sold all his beautiful chickens. He had enough money though, and that’s why he did it. He sold the chickens that he helped feed and water when he was young. He sold the chickens that he had saved from Nigel and Sapphire. He sold the chickens that Ezra had been so proud of. That had provided him with money enough to keep his farm in decent shape. Compare that to the life of the Aunt who had loved, and raised him. And you have a clear choice.

Somewhere in the world, let’s say in the city Geatville, there is a man. He is a strong man. And his name is Ezekiel White. But most people just call him Zeke. He lives with is Uncle Andrew and his Aunt Mercy. He lives a happy life with the two of them. And even here, in the big city people talk about Zeke and his generosity towards his Aunt. He kept her alive by selling all his precious chickens. He is good man, that Zeke. He is wise and unselfish. He is loving and kind. He is brave and obedient. He is what every one of us should strive to be.