A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package.”What food might this contain?” the mouse wondered.  He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning: There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, “Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it.”

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, “There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”
The pig sympathized, but said, I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers.”

The mouse turned to the cow and said “There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!”
The cow said, “Wow, Mr. Mouse. I’m sorry for you, but it’s no skin off my nose.”

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer’s mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house — like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer’s wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital , and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient.

But his wife’s sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer’s wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. And so, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn’t concern you, remember — when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.

A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, who we’ll call Brother Smith. She says Brother Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons.

One particular day, Sally walked into seminary and knew they were in for another fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Brother Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry . . . and he would allow them to throw darts at the person’s picture.

Sally’s girlfriend (on her right), drew a picture of a girl who had stolen her boyfriend. Another friend (on her left), drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of Brother Smith, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on his face. Sally was pleased at the overall effect she had achieved.

The class lined up and began throwing darts, with much laughter and hilarity. Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Brother Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats.

As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn’t have a chance to throw any darts at her target, Brother Smith began removing the target from the wall.

Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus . . .

A complete hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced out.

Brother Smith said only these words, “In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.”

No other words were necessary; the tear-filled eyes of each student focused only on the picture of Christ. The students remained in their seats . . . even after the bell rang . . . then slowly left the classroom, tears streaming down their faces.

“And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’ (Matthew 25:40)

Retired U.S. Marine Corps General Charles Krulak tells of the time when he as a nonbeliever was first confronted with the testimony of a person committed to Christ:

Thirty-five years ago I was a young second lieutenant just graduated from the Naval Academy, married 14 days after I graduated. My wife and I went down to Quantico, Virginia, home of the basic school where officers learn about honor, courage, and commitment. At that time in my life I thought I was a cross between John Wayne and Tom Cruise. Because I was married, I shared a room with another married officer named John Listerman. John was a wonderful human. He exuded goodness. If I asked him for his arm, he would have said, “Where do you want me to cut it off? At the wrist? The elbow?” John was a Christian. That meant nothing to me other than Gee, what a nice guy. I guess this Christian stuff must be pretty good.

Upon graduating from basic school, John and I went to Camp Pendleton, California, where we joined the same battalion preparing to go to Vietnam. And I saw another side of John Listerman: he was a tremendous leader—aggressive and technically proficient. People loved him. He was committed to his troops; his troops were committed to him. He was a Marine’s Marine.

On a December morning in 1965 John and I went to war.  John Listerman’s war lasted one day.

We were on patrol moving down a trail through the jungle. We came around a corner in that trail, and we ran into an ambush. John took the first round, a 50-caliber round right in his kneecap. As his kneecap burst, the crack was so loud it sounded like a mortar exploding. It threw him up in the air. As he was dropping, the second round hit him right below the heart and exited out his side. I was wounded also but nowhere near as badly. I saw John about 30 meters away on his back, his leg blown off.

I crawled up to him, and I wanted to say, “Are you okay? Can I do anything?” but before I could do that, his head turned to me and he said, “How are you doing, Chucker? Are you okay?”

I said, “Yes, John. I’m okay.” He said, “Are my men safe?” I said, “John, your people are okay.” At that point he turned his head and looked to the sky and repeated over and over, “Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord. Thank you for caring for my people. Thank you for caring for me.”

I was dumbfounded.

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General Charles Krulak, from a message given at the Wheaton, Illinois, Leadership Prayer Breakfast (October 2000)