Giant Weeds & Puttering Mowers

“Where are you going, Craig?” Matt asked his older brother, who was dressed in dirty work jeans and a T-shirt.

“I’m going to see if I can do some yardwork. Mom has been laid off from work, and she’s worried about having enough money,” Craig replied.

“Oh no!” said Matt, feeling worried. “What are we going to do?”

“It’ll be okay. Mom has found a part-time job, and I plan to make some extra money mowing lawns,” said Craig.

“I can help you,” said Matt. “Mr. Feester’s yard looks like a jungle. Maybe we should try there.”

“Good idea! Let’s go!” Matt and Craig gathered all the yard tools they could find. Then they crossed the street to Mr. Feester’s house and knocked on the door.

Soon, a little old man opened the door.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Hi, Mr. Feester,” said Matt.

“Would you like us to mow your lawn, Sir?” Craig asked politely.

“And I can pull weeds,” Matt added eagerly.

Mr. Feester gazed at the tall grass and huge weeds in his yard. “All right,” he said. “Go ahead—and do the backyard, too!”

Matt grabbed his tools. “I’ll start pulling weeds.”

Meanwhile, Craig pulled the cord to start the lawn mower—kazzoooom! It started on the first try. Craig grinned triumphantly at Matt.

Before long, they were finished in the front and ready to head to the backyard. When they got to the gate, everything began to go wrong.

Matt pushed on the gate then pulled. “Hey! What’s wrong with the gate?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Let me look.” Craig peered over the top. “The grass on the other side is so tall, the gate can’t move.”

“How will we get over there?” Matt asked.

“I guess we’ll have to climb over,” said Craig as he lifted himself up and swung his foot over the top, jumping down on the other side.

“What about me?” Matt asked. “I can’t climb that!”

“All right. I’ll help you.”

Craig climbed back to Matt’s side and bent down to give Matt a boost. Matt stepped up onto his brother’s shoulder.

“Ow! Keep your shoe out of my ear,” Craig grunted.

“Sorry.” Matt swung his leg over the top of the gate. But before he could get his balance, he toppled over the top, scraping his leg on the rough wood of the fence on his way to the ground. “Ahhh!” Clunk. “Ouch!” he said, rubbing his leg.

“You okay?” asked Craig, jumping over the gate again and landing beside Matt.

“Yeah, but our tools are on the other side of the fence!”

“I’ll get ’em.” Craig hopped back over the fence and tried to lift the mower, but it was too heavy. “Hey, Matt! Use these shears to cut the grass away from the gate so we can open it.” Craig passed the shears to Matt. Matt quickly clipped the grass along the bottom of the gate.

“Okay, it’s ready!” he shouted.

“Here goes! One, two, three!” Craig pushed against the gate with all his might as Matt pulled from the other side. With a creak and a pop, the gate let loose and flew open! Matt landed on his backside—kerplop! He watched as his brother tumbled passed him into the backyard—ooof!

“Well, at least it’s open now,” said Matt as he helped Craig up.

“Yeah, but we wasted a lot of time.”

“We better keep working, or we won’t get paid,” said Matt. He frowned at the crowded weeds in the flower beds and sighed. “How come there are so many? They’re giant!”

Craig pushed the lawn mower through the open gate and pulled the starter cord. It took a couple tries before it chugged to life. Craig finished two rows with the mower, watching it gobble up the tall grass, when he heard a funny noise—putter-putter-ploof! Then it died.

“What? No!” Craig checked the gas and the oil. “Come on, don’t do this,” he pleaded desperately. “Stupid old thing.” Craig kicked the mower. “I hate this job.”

“Yeah, I feel like quitting,” Matt agreed. “There’re so many weeds, and a bunch of them have thorns!” The boys slumped down on the ground, feeling hot, dirty, and discouraged.

“You boys tired?”

Craig and Matt looked up to see Mr. Feester on the porch with a tray of sandwiches and lemonade. The boys bolted toward the food.

“Thanks, Mr. Feester! I’m starving,” said Matt through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Wow! That’s good,” said Craig after he gulped some ice-cold lemonade.

“You two remind me of Paul and Silas. They had a rough time doing their work. But they didn’t complain. Even when they were in prison, they praised God!”

“I’m not sure we’re like them,” said Matt. “We were just about to quit when you came along.”

“Well, you boys have worked hard today. My yard was a mess, but you’re doing a good job. You even got my gate open.” Mr. Feester chuckled.

The boys smiled, feeling energized by Mr. Feester’s words and the food.

“I’m ready to finish that lawn,” said Craig.

“Tell you what.” The old man peered at the boys through his thick glasses. “I’ll pay you double if you finish the job without any more complaints.”

“Double?” the brothers shouted excitedly.

“Yup.” Mr. Feester smiled.

Craig and Matt leaped off the porch and got back to work. Craig pulled the starter on the mower, but nothing happened. “Come on, pretty please?” He calmly tried again—and it revved up right away. “Yes!” he shouted. “This grass is going down! We’ll conquer this yard—without complaining!”

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