Nuts in a Graveyard

On the outskirts of town there was a big old pecan tree by the cemetery fence. One day two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight and began dividing the nuts.

“One for you, one for me, One for you, one for me” said one boy.

Several were dropped and rolled down toward the fence. Another boy came riding along the road on his bicycle. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery, and he slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard “One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.” He just knew what it was. “Oh, my,” he shuddered, “it’s Satan and the Lord dividing souls at the cemetery.”

He Jumped back on his bike and rode off. Just around the bend he met an old man with a cane, hobbling along. “Come here quick,” said the boy, “you won’t believe what I heard. “Satan and the Lord are down at the cemetery dividing up the souls.” The man said, “Beat it kid, can’t you it’s hard for me to walk?” When the boy insisted, though, the man hobbled to the cemetery.

Standing by the fence, they heard, One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me.” The old man whispered, “Boy, you’ve been telling the truth. Let’s see if we can see the devil himself.” Shaking with fear, they peered through the fence, yet we’re still unable to see anything. The. The old man and the boy gripped the wrought iron bars of the fence tighter and tighter as they tried to get a glimpse of Satan.

At last they heard, “One for you, one for me. And one last one for you. That’s all. Now let’s go get the nuts by the fence, and we’ll be done.”

Myself

I have to live with myself, and so I want to be fit for myself to know, I want to be able, as days go by, Always to look myself straight in the eye; I don’t want to stand, with the setting sun, And hate myself for the things I have done. I don’t want to keep on a closet shelf A lot of secrets about myself, And fool myself, as I come and go, Into thinking that nobody else will know The kind of a man I really am; I don’t want to dress up myself in sham. I want to go out with my head erect, I want to deserve all men’s respect; But here in a struggle for fame and pelf I want to be able to look at myself. I don’t want to look at myself and know That I’m bluster and bluff and empty show. I can never hide myself from me; I see what others may never see; I know what others may never know, I never can fool myself, and so, Whatever happens, I want to be Self-respecting and conscience free. Edgar A. Guest

A Mans Grief

Albert Hammond was visiting the cemetery near Hamble in England and he couldn’t help noticing a man kneeling in front of a gravestone, clasping his hands and sobbing. 

Albert went a bit closer and could hear what the man was saying. ‘Why did you have to die?’ he was repeating,‘Why did you have to die?’

Feeling he ought to do something to alleviate the man’s obvious distress Albert laid his hand on his shoulder saying gently, ‘Was it someone you loved very much?’

The man looked up at him and said, ‘No, I never met him, he was my wife’s first husband.’