The story is told of a farmhand who had worked for a married couple for several years. As time went on, the couple grew older and older and they couldn't do as much they had and the farm was beginning to look a little shabby. The paint on the barn was peeling. The fences had holes in them and slats were loose. The gravel road had potholes in it. Shingles on top of the farmhouse were beaten and weathered and needed replacing. But as the farmhand made his way to milk the cows each day, he thought: What is that to me? It's not my farm.
Then, one day the farmer and his wife asked him to come for dinner. They told him how much he had meant to them.
They told him that they had no children to inherit the farm, so they wanted to give it to HIM when they died.
The next day, the farmhand was walking to the nursing barn, he noticed the paint on the barn. In a few days he'd painted the barn and fixed the fence, and in the next few weeks he was putting a new roof on the farmhouse and putting new gravel on the road.
Why would he do that? What made the difference in his attitude? He was
...