Peter & James

PETER and James were arguing over who it was that Jesus loved best. They decided they would go to Him and ask.

"Which of the two of us do you love best?" they scowled.

"John" said Jesus - to which he added laughing - "only joking".

Two Fairies

TWO fairies were fighting over a flower pot. The mistress of the household had secured a plant, taking it from the garden, resettling it into a decorative urn. With this new immigrant came also its companion-planted fairy, that had now unwittingly happened into the territory of a very spiteful spindly limbed creature, who protested the new arrival of both.

The defensive householder fairy had not seen much of the outdoors in quite a few decades. An elemental being, whose consciousness was now defined within the walls of this house, was prideful of each placement of treasured article; ever watching over the comings and the goings. You could often see her chasing the walls, taking an inventory repeatedly. Now, here came this being from the garden! Swanning in upon a couch of green fern! Idle! Carefree! And enjoying the newly acquired decorator plant pot in her lounge room!!!

A week or so later the plant began to fail. At first it appeared to be lacking just water, but it was more than that - being mournful in consideration of the sadness for its partner in being, who too was fading in this lounge room. 

Disparaged and forlorn, the unwanted immigrant longed for the garden she had come from. She despaired from the tirades of the protective objectionable other. Possibly her worst day came when the liquid fertilizer was administered. All the while the household creature spat and screamed at her, wailed and complained, and stamped her tiny foot, doing all that she could for the tempers to succeed and evacuate her from the house.

Well the plant was returned to the soil, even though by all appearances there wasn't much hope, considering its dry brown frailty. However, after a rain or two and a morning elixir, both the creature and its living greenness were restored.

Some time after, the mistress of the house became quite ill herself. One said that it was something she had 'caught' and another speculated that she had simply 'run herself down', but the larger truth of it was that the agitated fairy had overbearingly affected her good nature, by proximity and through relationship, infecting the house and its owner with a sickness of soul.

The mistress, of course, had ever been prideful of her house in the past. But now, due to the illness, had not the strength to keep it tidy and did not even appreciate, as before, the adorning placements. The knick-knacks were no longer an inspiration to her. The curtains looked depleted, and she preferred them now open, to the fabric's pattern as before. Yes, the window with its aspect in the garden appealed to her much more now, than what the inside had to offer. 

Her home became a confine to her, and not the 'palace' she had once felt it to be. She, like the ferny fairy, longed to be outside; longed to move away from the materialism she once had built her life around.

While she slept, the householder fairy busied herself, including the woman in her inventory check, satisfying herself that she remained housebound - telling herself that this was because she loved her so much. And the mistress dreamed, yet woke too tired to recall the better parts of these dreams, seeing only the dull and troubled mirror of her life.

Now and then the garden fairy would shy up to the window and look in. She understood this sickness herself, and wished for the woman the healing she had known. She called upon her friends and sought for help.

Three days later there was a visitor at the door. Under his arm was a brown paper bag with a fruit bun within, and in the other hand a tissue-clad bouquet of flowers. Every flower, every stem with bud, had a living child of virtue - a rosy faced, violet eyed fairy - a congregation of happiness.

When she got better, as bettered she did, the gentleman visitor returned and took her to many places. Some were scenic nature-type places and some were other buildings and houses which naturally were different to her own. 

She later was to move in with him - took a few books with her, but for the bulk of the furniture, ornaments and so forth, she gave it all away to coveting relatives and neighbors, finally relinquishing the remains to a garage sale.

On moving day, when the house was emptied and suitably cleaned, she took one last look through the doorway into the vacant lounge room. She did not know how long to reminisce, what was an appropriate time to say goodbye … and could not have consciously realized or seen the little figure in the corner, that she was, at least in part, saying goodbye to. You see, the householder fairy could not go with her, it came with the house. It could not bring itself to venture outside of those doors, for it was not within that tiny nature that was her.

That afternoon a removalist's truck edged its bulk into the driveway. Clattering down the ramp came a variety of treasures, cramming into the house, being placed here and there - new nails on the walls, boxes with neatly wrapped packages - here, for our fairy, was a new inventory to be made and accounted for!

Each Step Ascends

An old man sat at a gravestone, tracing with his finger the name engraved upon the cold stone. Where the letters were etched were only indent spaces, even hollows, not really there, yet the surrounding mold made them appear so.

"Is this what I am to amount to?" he asked of himself. He was weary with the contests of life and wearied also at the anxiety of the afterlife. Almost resigned, yet wanting and unfulfilled, he began to weep for himself in genuine sorrow, fatigue and aloneness.

Christ then appeared beside him, softly placed his palm on the old man's rounded shoulder and said:

"Dearest of friends, on the pathway of worldly life, from birth through to death, each step ascends - each step ascends!"

Just then the elderly man had a vision of the pilgrims traveling their lives upon earth, each one; and he could see a plain line that went for countless miles of both men and women proceeding upwards to a point invisible. It was to him like the largest mountain convoy one could have ever imagined, moving, as Christ had told him, steadily upwards.

A moment or two later he began to feel the difficulty of these steps. He felt that it had been easier when he was younger, but now the climb required more than his will had to offer. It seemed that he was indeed traveling this upward journey, but it was becoming impossibly difficult … 

"See now how one step builds upon another? And this place you step out from, these rocks beneath your feet, are from the mountain of Experience! Grace, Life and Virtue uphold you! The spirit is never tired, for curiosity keeps it buoyant. Curiosity keeps it buoyant!"

Another moment or two later it was as though the film on the man's eyes had cleared, and he saw the vision again, but with yet more distinction. Beneath the feet of the pilgrims, the steps there they mounted, were … tombstones - just like the one he was sitting beside. And this tombstone, the one he had traced, bore that of his name. 

"It is time" Christ softly said. "Come, you can walk with Me, if you like" and He took his hand.

Auf Deutsch:
"Ein alter Mann saß an einem Grabstein, und folgte mit seinem Finger dem eingravierten Namen auf dem kalten Stein. Wo die Buchstaben eingeätzt waren, waren nur eingedrückte Leerfelder, auch hohl, nicht wirklich da, doch die Umgebung ließ sie so erscheinen.

"Ist es das, was ich bedeute?" fragte er sich selbst. Er war schwach von den Wettbewerben des Lebens, geschwächt auch von der Angst vor dem Leben nach dem Tode. Fast resigniert, doch hoffend und unerfüllt, begann er für sich selbst zu weinen in echter Sorge, Müdigkeit und Einsamkeit.
Christus erschien neben ihm, legte sanft seine Hand auf die Schulter des Mannes und sagte:

"Liebster der Freunde, auf dem Weg des weltlichen Lebens, von der Geburt hindurch bis zu Tod, jeder Schritt steigt auf - jeder Schritt steigt auf!"

Genau da hatte der ältere Mann eine Vision von Pilgern die ihr Leben lang über die Erde wandern, jeder einzelne; und er konnte eine deutliche Linie sehen, die sich endlose Meilen fortsetzte für Männer und Frauen, aufwärts zu einem unsichtbaren Punkt. Es erschien ihm wie die riesigste Berg-Kolonne die man sich jemals vorstellen konnte, sich, wie Christus ihm gesagt hatte, stetig aufwärts bewegend.
Einen Moment oder zwei später begann er, die Schwierigkeit dieser Schritte zu fühlen. Er fühlte, daß es leichter gewesen war, als er jünger war, doch nun erforderte der Anstieg mehr als sein Wille bieten konnte. Es schien, daß er tatsächlich diese Reise aufwärts machte, doch es begann unmöglich beschwerlich zu werden...

"Siehst du jetzt, wie ein Schritt zum anderen führt? Und dieser Ort aus dem du heraustrittst, diese Felsen unter deinen Füßen sind vom Berg der Erfahrung! Gnade, Leben und Tugend halten dich aufrecht! Der Geist ist niemals müde, denn Neugier hält ihn lebendig!“

Einen weiteren Moment, oder zwei, später war es, als ob der Film auf des Mannes Augen sich klärte und er sah die Vision erneut, doch diesmal mit mehr Genauigkeit. Zwischen den Füßen der Pilger, die Tritte die dort befestigt waren, waren.... Grabsteine - genau wie der eine, neben dem er saß.

Und dieser Grabstein, derjenige den er aufgespürt hatte, trug seinen Namen.

"Es ist Zeit", sagte Christus sanft. "Komm, du kannst mit Mir gehen, wenn du möchtest" und Er nahm seine Hand."

Assorted Sweets- 3rd February 2002

TWO gods: Philosophy and Reason, were arguing "the Truth" one day, when Christ happened upon their debate. Both wore injured countenances and pleadingly requested His support for their being.

"Tell us" they both asked unwittingly "who of the two is the most valuable to You?"

He smiled and kissed them both, and then replied:

"Neither." 

And then it was that they saw (quite completely) what they both had been missing. The two embraced and became companions-eternal.