The story of a rock

Ambition :

Worm - meaningless life , always crawling aimlessly. Now to be snatched by a bird from the sky. So make me a bird.

Bird - flying up there endlessly looking for a prey. Now to be shot by a hunter. So make me a hunter.

Hunter - roaming around looking for a birds and now getting tired a hungy. Sitting on a stone falling asleep. So make me a stone.

Stone - monotonous immobile life. Sometimes wet and soaked during the rain. Heated and burning during summertime. Worms getting in and out enjoying their parade. So make me worm, again

Worm - Happy and contented to be himself again. At the sight of a bird about to devour him: A thought comes to his mind. And so he prays: You are my rock and my refuge. And the bird flies away as he find himself inside the rock.

Humility :

A big rock is setting prettily on the top of the bountiful mighty mountain. This rock feast himself with the beauty of the morning sun, and with its splendor till sunset. He enjoys the invigorating whispers of the gentle breeze and the refreshing touches of the wondering clouds. The rock swims along with reflective glory of evening to dawn in the silent ecstasies of nature under the melodious inspirations of the twinkling stars and smiling moon, interrupted once in a while, by the alternating chirping of the crickets and howling of foxes to provoke the thoughts that life is still even in the darkest night. The rock can only pray : Lord, may your name be glorified.

Then one day, a heavy storm came about and a strong quake jerked to mountain peak. Tress fell down intermittently and the mountain top loosened its ground. Consequently , the mountain collapsed into slides and so downward rolled the big beautiful rock. As he rolled down he bumps coarsely with every conceivable pressure and the surface of the rock tore away into pieces leaving only his hardest core rolling down and down into the edges of the valley. Finally, he settled down under a mango tree beside the park.

As the rock falling rolling down, thw valley bein turned to pieces, he continues to pray : Lord, may your name be glorified. Now the rock is settled and his prayer does not change.

Day in and day out the rock is visited by children playing in the park. They put their belongings on the flat of the rock. Some children are rougha and some are courteous. Some even write a silly words on him, but the rock has the same prayer : Lord, may your name be glorified.

During evenings especially on the summer time, sweet hearts find themselves sitting on the rock and he is a silent witness to the intimate loving conversation, and sometimes embarrassing gestures of the couple. There were also times when the rock functions as courthouse to the breaking away sweethearts and many many more scenario within the senses of the rock. But the rock has only one prayer : Lord, may your name be glorified.

One day, an enterprising young man with two other workmen lifted up the big stone to the truck and hauled the rock to town. For the first time he was able to witness and observe the admirable atmosphere of a city life.

Lord, may your name be glorified.

How beautiful indeed to be touring around the city through the busy traffic of jampacked vehicles on the streets and of stampeding pedestrians of all directions. What a contrast, however, of sound and views from the mountain top rolling along the valley slopes to the childrens park and down the avenues of an intriguing metropolis.

Oh Lord, may your name be glorified, murmured the stone in hos heart.

Now the rock is unloaded and mercilessly rolled inside the building that happened to be sculptures shop. There the rock stayed unnoticed for the rest of the day and the night together with other figures the rock still has a discern and recognize.

Early in the morning, the ordeal started with a chisel and a hammer, that young man who took interest on the rock began to shatter the rock with excruciating pains and blood oozing sufferings for many continuous days until henis totally disfigured. Lord, may your name be glorified. He continuous to whisper as his separated pieces chirped by the chisel fly away.

Amidst the agonizing pains he suffered from the cruel hands of the sculpture there appears a piercing smile of satisfaction from the glaring face of the chisel man that lifts the soul of the rock to whisper : Lord, may your name be glorified.

Wonderful! "a strange voice from afar was heard. " When can you put it on? The voice continued. I will be ready in the afternoon tommorow-answered the sculpture. Great! said the voice and left away.

Then the deformed rock was hauled again, but now more cautiously handled on the laps of the scripture. After many more series of work, touches and retouches in the days and the nights the rock can no longer understand, people crowded arohnd the disfigured rock. Hymns were sung. duscourses were heard, and applauses thundered around. Since then, the rock was the rejoicing silent witness to the in and out flow of people of all walks of life looking at that rock, each with a silent prayer in his heart. Have mercy on me.