By John Hargraves.  

Once upon a time there was a kind smart boy named Malleus. He grew up in a wonderful family with loving parents and many brothers and sisters. His parents had carefully named their children so that their destinies could be fulfilled. 

Malleus learned that his name meant hammer. He pondered his future and what his true gifts were. What kind of hammer would he be? 

He thought about Thor, the god of thunder, who carried a huge hammer and pounded it in the heavens for all to hear and bow to. But he didn’t want to frighten anyone.

He thought about being a carpenter and building all sorts of shelters for people. So when it thundered they would be safe. But he could never drive a nail straight and once hammered his thumb. This was too painful.

Then he thought about sculpting, for he was a sensitive artist at heart. His parents bought him a chisel, a stone carver’s hammer and a big block of marble. He was going to be the next Michelangelo. He was so excited that when he swung his hammer against the chisel striking the marble,  it shattered into pieces. 

What could he do with a hammer that would not frighten people, cause pain or break things apart? He prayed.

Malleus had a dream. In it he carried a peen ball hammer and gently pounded out dents and restored many things. On awakening he was puzzled. What could this mean? 

He prayed some more.

A hammer for good is what I want to be, he thought. A hammer to help those in fear, in pain and in chaos. A hammer of Love was his destiny. He became a man of God.