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A young boy and his brother Were outside with their trucks, Building roads and castles And singing about some ducks. The good truck went to the oldest, ""Only the finest for me!"" The small truck went to the other, Who pretended not to see. They grew up knowing exactly Who would get the best; To the oldest goes the finest, To the youngest goes the rest. When the oldest went to college He said, ""Brother, you'd best learn, The finest things that come in life Depend on what you earn."" When the younger married his sweetheart And bought a modest farm, The older brother rolled his eyes And said with great alarm; ""I ask you now, with hand on plow, Consider how you'll fare!"" The younger said that he'd do fine And thanked him for his care. With time and work and travel The oldest made his fame; And sought the life he'd dreamed of, And played the worldly game. While, on his humble acreage, The youngest sewed his seeds; He lived for wife and family And somehow met his needs. Then one day came the eldest To the younger brother's place, With storms inside his heartaches, But sunshine on his face. ""Li'l Brother, I tell you, I've made it! I enjoy all my success! I've been so many places, And I own the very best!"" The oldest looked out the window, And he saw his brother's boys Playing in the sandbox And picking out their toys. And one boy said to the other, ""Only the finest for me!"" And the man staring out the window Stood straight and hard, like a tree. He slowly started to tremble, Then tears came to his eyes; He shouted out through he window, ""Young man, don't think those lies! The brightest toys you chose today Will soon be turned to rust. The finest toy brings little joy, It'll never love or trust! If only the very finest Is truly what is sought, You're searching for a priceless gem That you've already got. Dear boys, do like your father, If you really want to live; The surest way of growing rich Is learning how to give."" Big Brother stood there silent, Then, glancing toward the other, ""I guess I've always had the finest, You've always been my brother."" The oldest learned before too late, Though, oh, so late he was, Success is measured by what one is And not by what one does.
Wes Stephenson

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