Just through the red door lies a mystical place where live the little known creatures, the ones the world looks upon as myth and legend.  In this realm, they live and breathe, just the same as you and I.  Journey with me through the red door, to the place of imagination and we will find a new dimension of reality.

The new day calls out with an invitation from those beyond the door.  It is they who wish to meet us and share their tales!

I hear Grandpa Ansel, a respected elder, calling now, his voice strong and commanding.

“Hark, noble ones of the realm!”

As I cross the threshold of the red door, I can see Grandpa Ansel holding two young boy gnomes by the scruff of their vests.  There are raised voices saying some unkind things and I can hardly believe my eyes and ears.

This is an unusual occurrence in Rehoboth, as life has always appeared harmonious on my past visits, but today, I see that all is not well.

Grandpa set the two hostile gnomes on the ground in front of his favored fallen log.  Looking directly at them he said, “Listen well to me boys.  Gather close and hear the wisdom of age, for you are just beginning and have much to learn.”

Before Grandpa sat two very unhappy boys, alternately scowling at each other and then up at Grandpa Ansel, who seemed quite unruffled by their attitudes.  Addressing the youngster on his right, Grandpa asked, “Now, Oden, can you explain to me the reason for your anger?”

“Tobias is an idiot and he is mean!  He told me I was stupid and ugly and that I couldn’t do anything right.  I was fed up with his insults.  So I shoved him and told him to shut his mouth.”

“I see,” said Grandpa.  Turning then to Tobias, Grandpa asked, “Is this a true account of the event, Tobias?”

“It’s only partially true,” Tobias answered, clearly not wanting to elaborate further.

“Tell me your version, then, Tobias.  You see, in any disagreement there are at least two perspectives.  I’d like yours, please.”

“Oden thinks he is better than the rest of us.  He’s always giving us orders and correcting or criticizing.  Too often he picks on the younger gnomes.  He sometimes name-calls and sometimes he makes the little ones cry.  That’s what he was doing today.  Little Mathilda ran home in tears, and I spoke up about it.  Oden has no right to make a little girl cry.”

“Did you do the things Tobias has accused you of, Oden?” Grandpa asked.

“Not really.  I can’t help it if the little ones can’t take a joke,” answered Oden, defensively.

“Tell me, Oden, when you were much younger, did you find it funny when someone called you names or said hurtful things?” Grandpa asked.

Tobias looked on in wonder as Oden’s eyes filled with tears.  How could this be?

Seeing Tobias’ confusion, Grandpa began.  “There is an old saying and I hear it still.  It goes like this, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.’  Are you familiar with it?”  Both boys nodded.

“Of a truth, I tell you, it is not so.  A broken bone will knit back together, or a cut will grow new skin, but the soul is pierced through by harsh and hurtful words.  We don’t see the wounds created by our nastiness, but those who are on the receiving end may be changed forever.

Tobias, thank you for defending Mathilda.  Your motive was true and honorable, but your method was unproductive, creating more strife.  I appreciate why you hurled those words at Oden, but you fixed nothing.  There are better ways.  In the future, seek out some adult advice and help.  Your name-calling placed you on the same plane as Oden’s feeble attempt at disguising his bad behavior as humor.  Do you understand that what you did was wrong?”

“Yes, Grandpa,” Tobias answered, awaiting his sentence of punishment.

“You should return to your work in the garden now, Tobias, and remember our talk today.  It will help you in your future,” Grandpa Ansel instructed, dismissing Tobias.

“Now Oden, are you able to tell me of the things that have hurt you?  I see a young gnome hiding behind a mask of toughness, but I don’t believe you are tough.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” answered Oden.

“Fair enough.  Then we won’t talk about it.  I have a few chores to tend to now, anyway.  Why don’t you come along with me and lend me your youth and intelligence.  It would be a great help.  I find you a bright lad and you’re certainly strong.  Today I think you have learned that there is a force stronger than your physical might,” Grandpa said.

“Oh?  What is that?” asked Oden.

“Your words, Oden.  Too late in life we learn the power of our words.  Words can tear down and destroy or they can build up and create.  Harsh words hit like a hammer, delivering a blow.  Kind words wash over the soul, encouraging and molding confidence.

It isn’t only the words we say, but also the words we hear.  Think about this, you hear every word you say aloud, so when you launch a verbal attack, you hear the same words as your intended listener.  Those very words affect you just as they affect the one you are speaking to.  Sometimes, young Oden, the best thing we can do is to remain silent.  Sadly, it seems to take a lifetime to learn to bridle our tongue and control it.  Speaking of tongues, I think I’ve wagged mine enough for now! 

Let’s get to work, and Oden, I could use your help again tomorrow.  Can you meet me here after your chores are finished tomorrow morning?”

Oden merely nodded in agreement, baffled by Grandpa Ansel’s lack of punishment.  In his heart, Oden knew he had been particularly mean to Mathilda and he knew he deserved punishment, yet this wonderful old gnome showed kindness and insight, in place of judgment.  With renewed respect for Grandpa Ansel, Oden matched him stride for stride as then set off to go to work.