Tending My Field

Tending My Field
By John A. Wilson

For many years I was jealous,
Of my neighbor's field of corn.
The stalks were tall, the tassels long
With ears so plump and sweet.
Until one day he spoke to me
About my plot of peas,
"I wish that I could grow my peas
As fat and sweet as yours.
But, alas, the soil in my garden
Is not the proper kind."
My field is suited for one thing
His field for something else.
Time spent in envy of each other's gifts
Is woefully, forever lost.
So I no longer try to raise corn
My neighbor doesn't plant peas
He brings me corn, all that I need,
And I give him plenty of peas.
The Lord has given us each a plot
To till and tend our crops
Our job is to find what best grows there
And share our gifts with the world
And not to dwell on other's gifts
Because yours are special too.
So do not envy others
For talents you don't have
Just tend your field as best you can
And be proud of what grows there.