The mighty oak sat on the hill for many years watching over the reeds near the river below. The oak enjoyed watching the reeds and all of their playfulness as they languished on the bank. The reeds would play games and bend towards each other to see who could stretch the farthest. The oak worried that one day they would break or stretch too far. He also worried that when the storms came and the river flowed too strongly that the would become uprooted and the wind might snap them in twain.
One day a storm did come. The oak worried greatly. He was scared for his little friends. They were too flexible and the winds would whip them around. The oak did not worry for himself. He was large and strong, his roots ran deep. The wind hurled itself at the oak. The rain poured it's heart onto the oak, to no avail. Then the wind said to the rain. "Wash all of yourself onto the oak. As you run down him, sink into the ground and wash away mother earth."
So the rain did. It washed away almost all of the earth from under the mighty oak. Its roots were bared for all to see. The oak was weakened. The wind began to push on the oak with all of its strength. The oak swayed from side to side and almost toppled twice.
The mighty oak was now afraid for himself. He did not feel as safe as he once did. He did not feel mighty. The oak cried out. "Is this what is to become of me? This is not right. I am supposed to be strong and watch over the reeds. Why has this happened to me. I have been strong and rigid for many years!"
The wind blew again against the mighty oak. It blew so hard that some of the oak's branches touched the ground. The oak was strong enough to pull itself up once more, but would never right itself again after an attack like that.
When the oak thought that it was all over he heard the voices of a thousand little friends. "It is what it is.
The oak did. He pushed down as hard as he could and sent his roots into the loving mother earth. When the wind attacked the next time the mighty oak leaned with the wind and bounced back. The wind and rain pummeled the oak until they grew weak and retreated.
The oak grew that night. He grew in many more ways than one. He was now truly the strongest oak around, for he had learned from those that he had thought to be weak. The oak never look on the reeds the same way again.
Thus we all can learn to go with what is given. There is no other choice. It is what it is.