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The Parable of the Horse and the Devil
A man tied his horse to a post. Later, the Devil came along and quietly set the horse free.
The horse wandered into a farmer’s field and began trampling the crops.
Furious, the farmer grabbed his rifle and shot the horse.
When the horse’s owner saw what happened, he became enraged. He took his own gun and killed the farmer out of revenge.
The farmer’s wife, seeing her husband dead, picked up an axe and killed the horse’s owner.
Then the owner’s son, driven by anger, killed the farmer’s wife.
The neighbors, horrified by the bloodshed, turned on the young man and burned his house to the ground.
When people asked the Devil why he had done all this, he replied calmly:
“I didn’t do anything. I only set the horse free.”
Moral:
The Devil doesn’t need to do much — just a small, innocent-looking act. The rest, we do ourselves.
He knows the evil already hiding in human hearts.
That’s why it’s so important to think before you act.
Remember: your words and your choices carry power.
Pause before you speak — and before you strike.

In the winter of 1892, a worker in Laramie, Wyoming found a four-year-old girl frozen in a train car. A note on her coat read, “Her name is Josephine. I can’t feed her. Please be kinder than I could be.” While others wanted to send her away, a kind Chinese laundress named Martha Chen said softly, “She stays with me.”

People gossiped about a Chinese woman raising a white child, but Martha ignored them. She taught Josephine to read, to work hard, and to be proud. Josephine grew up between two worlds, learning that family isn’t about blood—it’s about love and kindness.

Years later, when disease struck the town, Josephine saved many lives and became one of Wyoming’s first women doctors. She said, “The woman who found me gave me life. The woman who raised me gave me purpose.” The boxcar that almost took her life stayed as a reminder that even the coldest beginnings can lead to the warmest hearts.

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She was only fifteen when they chained her to a bed in a saloon and told her that men with money now owned her life. By the time she was twenty, Lydia “Red” McGraw had seen the worst of Dodge City — the smell of whiskey, the fists, and the cruel laughter that hurt more than the bruises. But inside her, the fire never died. She was born in Kansas in 1854 and had grown up helping her father break horses before he died. What life couldn’t break when she was young, no man could break later.

One night, everything changed. There was a fight — a knife, a scream, and a lamp thrown hard enough to set the room on fire. Red walked out into the street barefoot, blood on her hands but freedom in her heart. She didn’t run away. Instead, she rode into the wild lands with a big revolver on her belt and a promise to never let anyone hurt her again. From Abilene to Deadwood, people whispered stories about a red-haired woman who stood up for girls who couldn’t fight for themselves.

Years later, they said she died in a gunfight trying to protect a frightened girl. But no one ever found her body — only a silver hairpin and footprints leading toward the mountains. Maybe she died. Maybe she lived. But the legend of Red McGraw lives on — the woman who turned her pain into courage and justice. And maybe, if you had lived her life, you would have fought back too.
Mysterious mystery

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