When my dad was a kid, they didn't have any money. Raised dirt poor, they often had to rely on themselves to add to the family dinner table. They caught fish from the stream, hunted for wild pear trees and saved everything they could. My dad would shave the old neighbor man, Mr. Glasgow with a straight razor just to make a few pennies.
One afternoon, my grandfather gathered all nine of the kids together in the tiny house they lived in.
"Go out into the yard, find two sticks and come back."
They all ran out into the yard, eager to find props to play a game.
"Try to break one of those sticks."
They were all strong kids. Everyone snapped their sticks right in two.
"Now, put them all together. All nine sticks. Try to break that!"
The kids passed around the bundle. You can't do it, can ya?"
"You'll always be so much stronger if you stick together. No one can ever break your bond."
I love my family. We all still stick together. We always will.