We had a truckload of wood brought to our home here on the farm this past weekend and it brought back a story. Thought I may share. We'll call this, "The Little Homestead Series", which means there is more to come!
Long ago, there was a little boy who lived in a big, big house. The boy was the youngest of four children. He had three older sisters who loved to lay around, be on their phones, and watch movies. Only one of the sisters occasionally helped and that was so she could "become stronger for softball" as the dad called it. But even she, rarely chopped down trees.
The boy wanted to be a logger when he grew up just like his grandfather, so he spent most of his days chopping down trees in the woods and around the yard. He had a small handsaw and he just loved to chop down trees and chop them up.
The oldest sister found it humorous that such a small boy could just love chopping down trees. She watched him from afar as he chopped down a tall pine tree, he seemed to know exactly what to do and how to chop a tree down.
The boy chopped and chopped.
Soon, there was a woodpile made. The woodpile had to have been about four feet tall if not taller. The girls helped stack the wood and when Winter would come they'd have plenty of wood for the fireplace.
Before long it was Winter and the little boy's efforts were all paying off. The girls would be told to go gather the wood for the fire. But they were such girls. They'd be scared they'd step on snakes, or see a mouse! The poor, hardworking little boy would then have to go out and gather the wood for the fire.
But the sisters would make hot chocolate and pull on their fuzzy socks and thank the little boy for all his work.
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