A little girl is on the beach. She packs the sand with plastic shovels into a bright red bucket. Then she upends the bucket and a sandcastle is created. A man is in his office. He shoves papers into stacks and delegates assignments. Numbers are juggled, contracts are signed, and a profit is made.
Two builders - two castles. They see nothing and make something. And for both the tide will rise and the end will come. Yet that's where the similarities cease. For the girl sees the end while the man ignores it. Watch the girl as dusk approaches. As the waves near, the wise child begins to clap. There is no sorrow. No fear. No regret. She knew this would happen. She is not surprised. And when the great breaker finally crashes upon her castle and her masterpiece is sucked into the sea, she smiles, picks up her tools, takes her father's hand and goes home. The grown-up however, is not so wise. As the wave of years collapses on his castle he is terrified. He hovers over the sandy monument he protected. He blocks the waves from the walls he has made. Salt-water soaked and shivering he scowls at the incoming tide. 'It's my castle,' he defies. The ocean need not respond. Both know to whom the sand belongs..… and I don't know much about sandcastles. But children do. Watch them and learn.
"Go ahead and build, but build with a child's heart. When the sun sets and the tides take - applaud. Salute the process of life, then take your Father's hand and go home."