For many years I was jealous,

Of my neighbor's field of corn.

The stalks were tall, the tassels long

With ears so plump and sweet.

Until one day he spoke to me

About my plot of peas,

"I wish that I could grow my peas

As fat and sweet as yours.

But, alas, the soil in my garden

Is not the proper kind."

My field is suited for one thing

His field for something else.

Time spent in envy of each other's gifts

Is woefully, forever lost.

So I no longer try to raise corn

My neighbor doesn't plant peas

He brings me corn, all that I need,

And I give him plenty of peas.

The Lord has given us each a plot

To till and tend our crops

Our job is to find what best grows there

And share our gifts with the world

And not to dwell on other's gifts

Because yours are special too.

So do not envy others

For talents you don't have

Just tend your field as best you can

And be proud of what grows there.