One evening, an old Cherokee man sat with his grandson by the fire. The boy was troubled, his thoughts heavy with anger over a friend who had wronged him.
"Grandfather," he said, "I don’t know how to let go of this anger. It feels like a storm inside me."
The old man nodded knowingly. "A fight is going on inside me too," he said. "Inside all of us. It is between two wolves."
The boy frowned. "Two wolves?"
"Yes. One wolf is evil—full of anger, envy, sorrow, greed, pride, and lies. The other is good—filled with joy, peace, love, humility, kindness, and truth."
The boy thought for a moment. "Which wolf wins?"
The old man smiled. "The one you feed."
The boy sat quietly, watching the flames dance. Slowly, he felt the
storm inside him begin to settle.

Life is not a treasure chest
Of answers, gold, or rules—
It’s not a race to finish first,
Or test you have to lose.
It’s not a book with just one page,
Or clock that ticks in vain.
It’s not a cage, it’s not a stage—
It’s sunshine after rain.
Life is waking up each day
And choosing to be kind,
To leave the world a little bright
For those who come behind.
It’s laughing till your belly aches,
It’s crying when you must.
It’s knowing pain won’t last forever,
Even when it’s tough.
It’s holding hands, it’s saying thanks,
It’s helping without praise.
Life’s the little things you do
When no one’s keeping score—
A smile, a song, a "You’ll be okay,"
A knock on someone’s door.
So don’t waste time in endless fear,
Chasing things that fade.
The meaning’s here, the meaning’s now—
In love that isn’t paid.
For life is just a fleeting spark,
A breath, a blink, a sigh.
But in that blink, you get to choose
What light you leave behind.