The Bridge of Truth

The Lord detests dishonest scales, but accurate weights find favor with him. When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. The integrity of the upright guides them, but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity … The righteousness of the blameless makes their paths straight, but the wicked are brought down by their own wickedness. The righteousness of the upright delivers them, but the unfaithful are trapped by evil desires … Through the blessing of the upright a city is exalted, but by the mouth of the wicked it is destroyed … For lack of guidance a nation falls, but victory is won through many advisers … The Lord detests those whose hearts are perverse, but he delights in those whose ways are blameless. Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free. Proverbs 11:1-3, 5-6, 11, 14, 20-21

The city of Rio Belo needed a new bridge. The old one, a tired iron structure, was the only link to the capital, and its days were numbered. The construction of the new bridge was not just a project; it was the promise of a future, of progress. And at the center of this promise were two men: the newly elected mayor, Cássio Siqueira, and the most powerful contractor in the region, Renato Vargas.

Renato Vargas was a man guided by his perversity. He saw the bridge not as a service, but as the greatest profit opportunity of his life. His company, “Vargas Construction,” was known for winning bids with low proposals and then compensating with contract amendments and inferior quality materials. His conduct was deceitful, an instrument of greed that he wielded with the skill of a master. To him, the corrupt and dishonest were his natural allies, and he quickly formed a collusion with two city councilmen, believing that, together, they would be untouchable, free from any punishment.

On the other side was Cássio. A former history teacher elected on the promise of a “transparent administration.” His integrity was his guide. He knew that without proper guidance, a people falls, and the weight of that responsibility kept him awake at night. Faced with the bridge project, his first action was not to open the bidding process, but to assemble a technical council. He sought the safety of counselors: retired engineers, academics from the local university, community leaders. People whose only loyalty was to the city.

Renato Vargas’s proposal arrived in the city hall as expected: the cheapest, the fastest. His allied councilmen pushed for immediate approval.

“It is the best offer, Mayor! We can’t waste time!” they would say.

But Cássio’s technical council found the anomalies. The budget for steel was dangerously underestimated; the concrete specifications were vague. They were dishonest measures and false balances. The righteousness of the upright Cássio kept him on his path: he called for a public hearing to discuss the proposals, exposing the technical data to the entire city.

The wicked, Renato and his councilmen, tried to overthrow the city. They went to the local radio station, accusing Cássio of “bureaucracy,” of “delaying progress.” But Cássio’s transparency was his shield. The righteous, armed with the knowledge presented at the hearing, defended the mayor’s decision.

Furious, Renato tried the path of direct corruption. He scheduled a private meeting with Cássio.

“Be reasonable, Mayor,” the contractor said, sliding a thick envelope across the table. “Everybody wins. We can be partners.”

At that moment, Cássio felt the weight of the choice. To accept the bribe would be the fall, the betrayal of everything he believed in. Justice will prevail, he thought. Renato’s greed would be his own trap.

“Mr. Vargas,” Cássio said, standing up and pushing the envelope back. “The only partnership I am interested in is with the people of Rio Belo. The bidding process will be redone, with stricter technical criteria. And I suggest you prepare an honest proposal this time.”

What followed was a silent battle. Renato, caught in his own greed, tried everything to undermine Cássio’s administration. But the mayor’s integrity, like a light, guided his every step. The new bid was won by an outside company, with a more expensive but safe and transparent project.

The blessing for the upright was manifested. The construction of the bridge generated jobs, utilized local businesses, and, when inaugurated, became a symbol of pride for the city. Rio Belo was exalted, not just for the concrete structure, but for the triumph of honesty.

And what of Renato Vargas? By his wickedness, he fell. An investigation, initiated from the suspicions raised by Cássio’s technical council, revealed a scheme of fraud in several others of the contractor’s projects. He and his councilmen, who had joined in the collusion, did not go unpunished. They were arrested, their assets frozen. The righteous people, the citizens of Rio Belo, were freed from their corrupting influence.

Years later, crossing the new, now solid and safe bridge, Cássio reflected. He had faced the storm and won. His integrity had been his guide and his salvation, proving that, in the end, righteousness is not just an ideal, but the only foundation upon which anything of value can truly be built.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Transformations

Jesus is a powerful name,

If you meet and learn from Him,

Your life will never be the same,

You will gain many new things.

He will be your master and guide,

You will access a sea of knowledge.

You will be able to live a fresh life,

The infinite wisdom, you will get.

His teachings will be engraved on you,

The radiance of your mind will glow.

No foolishness bullet will touch you.

It does not matter how many they throw.

Go ahead with Jesus in your way,

With Him, you will never feel alone.

Never forget the miracles He performed.

You will be accompanied by the Might One.

This poem is part of the book Words of Faith.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/meLvPr

God’s House

The temples were built to adore you,

They are houses for the whole people to praise you.

In the temple, we can get close to you,

Staying closer to you to love you.

 

Your temple must be an honored place,

By your hand, it must be blessed.

It will be a place where your people choose,

A place for everyone to adore you.

 

In your house, everyone will talk to the Lord,

They talk through praise and the word.

The prayers will be elevated to your throne,

The Lord will hear the clamor of everyone.

 

Lord, may the prayers elevate themselves to you,

And in all moments, you hear our clamor.

We talk to the Lord in his habitation,

In your heart will arrive our petitions.

 

Your house is called a praying house,

Where everyone will open their hearts and mouths,

They will talk the most intimate of the soul with the Lord,

Hoping the Lord comes to be our Savior.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume IV.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bpMr16

The Memory and the Foundation

The Lord does not let the righteous go hungry, but he thwarts the craving of the wicked … The name of the righteous is used in blessings, but the name of the wicked will rot …  Whoever walks in integrity walks securely, but whoever takes crooked paths will be found out … Whoever heeds discipline shows the way to life, but whoever ignores correction leads others astray … What the wicked dread will overtake them; what the righteous desire will be granted.  When the storm has swept by, the wicked are gone, but the righteous stand firm forever …  The fear of the Lord adds length to life, but the years of the wicked are cut short. The prospect of the righteous is joy, but the hopes of the wicked come to nothing. The way of the Lord is a refuge for the blameless, but it is the ruin of those who do evil. The righteous will never be uprooted, but the wicked will not remain in the land. Proverbs 10:3, 7, 9, 17, 24-25, 27-30

Ten years away from home create a fog over memories. Upon returning to the small town of Águas Claras, Valdir, now a thirty-year-old man, felt like an archaeologist of his own childhood. The town had changed, but the ghosts of the past remained. And no ghost was larger than that of Ernani Gusmão.

Ernani had been the most powerful man in town. The owner of the meatpacking plant, the largest employer in the region, he ruled Águas Claras with an iron fist. Valdir remembered him as a feared figure, a man whose desire seemed unshakable. If Ernani wanted a piece of land, he got it. If an employee challenged him, he was destroyed. His prosperity seemed to mock the idea of justice. The fear he inspired, however, was the terror that would come upon him. He lived securely in his wealth but never in sincerity. His ways were perverse, and everyone knew it, but no one dared to speak.

Valdir’s first stop was the cemetery, to visit his grandparents’ graves. As he walked among the headstones, he passed the opulent mausoleum of the Gusmão family. The marble was imposing, but it was covered in dry leaves and cobwebs. Ernani had passed away five years ago. Valdir realized something strange: in two days in town, no one had mentioned his name. It was as if, after his death, a conspiracy of silence had swallowed him. It was as if the name of that man had never existed. Ernani’s name had not just rotted; it had been buried under the weight of collective relief.

His second stop was the old library in the town square, his refuge during his teenage years. There, he found a stark contrast. On the entrance wall, there was a simple, polished bronze plaque: “Jorge Valença Municipal Library - In memory of a man who planted trees and ideas.”

Jorge Valença. The name brought an immediate warmth to Valdir’s heart. Jorge had been the opposite of Ernani. A history teacher and owner of a small bookstore, he was a man of modest means but of unshakable integrity. He walked in sincerity, and because of it, he walked securely. Everyone in town knew him not for what he had, but for what he was. He treasured knowledge and taught the path of life to generations of young people, including Valdir.

As he browsed the books, Valdir began to see the “everlasting foundation” that Jorge had left behind. The librarian, a young woman who had been Jorge’s student, spoke enthusiastically about the new book club. The gardener who tended the square was a former-troubled student whom Jorge had taken under his wing. The hope of the righteous results in joy, and the joy planted by Jorge was still blossoming throughout the town.

In the afternoon, Valdir walked to the riverbank. He remembered a great storm, years ago, that had almost flooded the town. The flood had destroyed several businesses in the lower part of town, including one of Ernani Gusmão’s front sawmills. Ernani’s empire, built on greed, had no roots.

But Jorge’s house, which stood on a small hill, remained intact. And Valdir remembered his teacher, on the day after the flood, not worrying about his own possessions, but organizing work crews to help the homeless, his righteous soul fed not by food but by the purpose of serving and helping.

At the end of the day, sitting on a bench in the square, under the shade of an ipê tree he had seen Jorge plant, Valdir understood. The fear of the Lord, which Jorge lived out in his humility and service, indeed prolongs days—not necessarily on the calendar, but in the legacy, in the blessed memory that refuses to die. Ernani’s hope, placed in his own strength, died with him. Jorge’s hope, placed in God and in people, became the joy of an entire town.

The powerful man who perverted his ways was, in the end, “known” and erased. The simple man who walked in sincerity left a foundation that neither time nor storms could shake. And Valdir, breathing the air of his hometown, felt deeply grateful, not for the man everyone had feared, but for the man whose legacy had taught him how to live.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL

Some Masters

Many people say they are of Christ,

They walk around making many disciples.

This is the only and true mission,

And it must be done with total dedication.

About Jesus, they are teaching,

About the cross, they are talking.

They are saying the Lord has sacrificed,

And for all our sins, He has paid one price.

They get lost in the middle of the journey,

About the true Gospel, they forget it.

They start to notice other things.

They notice their fame and fortune are growing.

The disciples who were for the Lord,

They start to see them as a way to get a favor.

The disciples became the source of everything,

And they must be dedicated to the master in all things.

The greed of the person grew a lot,

And they do not care about God.

Each one lives to promote their lives,

Each one thinks about what they can acquire.

The disciples get lost because of the master’s ways,

From this kind of person, they want to move away,

The disciples do not agree about it,

They want to see the Lord Jesus Christ.

If they are disciples with good understanding,

They will not lose the way they were following.

A new leader from God, they will search for,

Someone worthy of trust.

But if they are people not fortified,

They will put the Lord aside.

They will come back to their previous state,

Because they are too frustrated.

They trust in people who are too shaken.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume IV.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/bpMr16

Contaminated Heart

Often, we see someone lost and we want to judge them,

We do not extend our hands to help them.

Our hearts want to show superiority,

We think we are free from guilt and responsibility.

We are hypocrites! We make no difference in society,

We claim that we are already saved and rulers; we have no piety.

Our hearts are taken by arrogance and selfishness,

We say that we are children of God, but we are not Christ’s likeness.

We are dominated by pride, arrogance, and presumption,

We live our lives without and never preach about salvation.

We prefer to let the lost die and then mourn,

We weep for the dead, but the living, we did not help, we scorn.

Every day, many people are cast into hell,

Due to our omission, in eternal torment, they will dwell.

They are people like you and me, who could have a chance for salvation,

But due to our negligence, they were thrown to condemnation.

The hearts of many Christians must be torn out,

They need to be replaced with new, renewed, and transformed ones.

Hearts that would give their own lives to save everyone,

Hearts that see within and do as Christ has done.

This poem is part of the book Christian Poetry Volume VI.

See the book:

https://books2read.com/u/4EBjBl

The Spring and the Storm

Blessings crown the head of the righteous, but violence overwhelms the mouth of the wicked … The wise in heart accept commands, but a chattering fool comes to ruin … Whoever winks maliciously causes grief, and a chattering fool comes to ruin. The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life, but the mouth of the wicked conceals violence. Hatred stirs up conflict, but love covers over all wrongs. Wisdom is found on the lips of the discerning, but a rod is for the back of one who has no sense. The wise store up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool invites ruin … Whoever conceals hatred with lying lips and spreads slander is a fool. Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues. The tongue of the righteous is choice silver, but the heart of the wicked is of little value. The lips of the righteous nourish many, but fools die for lack of sense … A fool finds pleasure in wicked schemes, but a person of understanding delights in wisdom … From the mouth of the righteous comes the fruit of wisdom, but a perverse tongue will be silenced … The lips of the righteous know what finds favor, but the mouth of the wicked only what is perverse. Proverbs 10:6, 8, 10-14, 18-21, 23, 31-32

The “Altos da Boa Vista” Condominium was, on the surface, a peaceful place. But beneath the facade of well-tended gardens, hatred, like an invisible leak, was beginning to stir up strife. And at the center of it all were two men: Otávio, the new building manager, and Gilberto, the resident of 503, a man whose mouth was a storm waiting to happen.

Gilberto was a master of veiled malice. To him, sowing discord was a form of entertainment. He concealed his hatred with flattering lips, approaching his neighbors with a feigned concern.

“Did you see the amount of Otávio’s new budget? It is absurd! Who knows where all that money is going…” he would whisper in the elevator, winking maliciously, planting the seed of mistrust. He had foolish lips, and every word he spoke was another shovel digging at the ruin of the building’s harmony.

Otávio, a retired engineer who took the position out of a genuine desire to serve, soon felt the impact. People would stop him in the hallways with veiled accusations based on Gilberto’s half-truths. He could have reacted with anger, but he was a wise man. He accepted the criticism, even when it was unjust.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” he would respond calmly. “I will prepare a detailed report of every expense and present it at the next meeting. Transparency is the best policy.”

Otávio’s mouth was a spring of life. Where Gilberto threw gasoline, Otávio brought the water of sensibility. He knew that in a multitude of words, sin is not lacking, so he measured every announcement, every response. His lips, like those of the righteous, knew what was pleasing: the truth spoken with respect. He began to hold open monthly meetings, not just to present the accounts, but to listen.

“What can we improve together?” he would ask, treasuring the knowledge that came from the residents’ experience.

Gilberto’s smear campaign intensified. He created a WhatsApp group called “Watching the Manager,” which quickly became a digital inquisition, a source of imminent destruction for Otávio’s reputation. Gilberto would post photos of a burnt-out lightbulb in the hallway as proof of “negligence,” interpreting every one of Otávio’s decisions as an act of tyranny or corruption.

The situation reached a critical point when a main pipe burst in the garage in the middle of the night, flooding several cars. It was chaos. Otávio was woken up at 3:00 AM and, within minutes, was already there, in rubber boots, coordinating the maintenance team, calming down desperate residents.

Gilberto, from his apartment, watched the scene from his window. And his amusement was cruel. He began to film, to send audio messages to the group.

“Look at this disaster! It is incompetence personified! Years of paying condo fees for this! Where is the preventive maintenance money he promised?”

However, the crisis that should have been Otávio’s ruin became his redemption. While Gilberto’s mouth spouted criticism, Otávio’s mouth produced practical wisdom. He organized a rotation of parking spots for the cars that were not hit. Through a contact, he managed to get a discount with a repair shop. Within forty-eight hours, the situation was under control.

At the emergency meeting called the following week, the hall was packed, the tension palpable. Gilberto stood up, ready for his accusatory speech. But before he could speak, Matilda, a lady who had lived in the building for many years, asked for the floor.

“I just wanted to thank Otávio,” she said, her voice firm. “In the midst of chaos, he brought us calm. In the midst of confusion, he brought us solutions. For months, we have heard many words that only served to set us against each other. But when things got tough, we saw that the words that truly matter are the ones that build, not the ones that destroy.”

One by one, other residents began to agree. The people who had been poisoned by Gilberto’s mistrust now saw the truth. He was caught by surprise, tried to argue, but his words now sounded empty, hollow. He fell, not from an attack, but from the weight of his own foolishness.

Humiliated, Gilberto fell silent. That day, the community began to heal. They learned to discern between the noise of confusion and the voice of wisdom. And Otávio, the man whose words were precious, continued his work, proving that a spring of life can, eventually, extinguish any fire a fool’s mouth tries to start.

(Made with AI)

This story is part of my book Everyday Wisdom

https://books2read.com/u/3knogL