Unicorn (Unicorn@Indenial.com)
Mon, 22 Feb 1999 13:18:15 -0500
Everything is a matter of perspective...
LadyHawke
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Professional"
A woman was getting a pie ready to put into the oven
when the phone rang. It was the school nurse: Her son
had some down with a high fever, and would she come
and take him home?
The mother calculated how long it would take to drive to
school and back, and how long the pie should bake, and
concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie in the
oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her son's
fever was worse, and the nurse urged her to take him to
the doctor.
Seeing her son like that -- his face flushed, his body
trembling and dripping with perspiration -- frayed her, and
she drove to the clinic as fast as she dared. She was
frayed a bit more waiting for the doctor to emerge from
the examining room, which he was doing now, walking
toward her with a slip of paper in his hand.
"Get him to bed," he told her, handing her the prescription,
"and start him on this right away."
By the time she got the boy home and in bed and headed
out again for the shopping mall, she was not only frayed,
but frazzled and frantic as well. And she had forgotten
about the pie in the oven. At the mall she found a
pharmacy, got the prescription filled and rushed back
to the car . . . . . . which was locked.
Yes, there were her keys, hanging in the ignition switch,
locked inside the car. She ran back into the mall, found
a phone and called home. When her son finally answered,
she blurted out, "I've locked the keys inside the car!"
The boy was barely able to speak. In a hoarse voice he
whispered, "Get a wire coat hanger, Mom. You can get
in with that." The phone went dead.
She began searching the mall for a wire coat hanger --
which turned out not to be easy. Wooden hangers and
plastic hangers were there in abundance, but shops
didn't use wire hangers anymore. After combing through
a dozen stores, she found one that was behind the times
just enough to use wire hangers.
Hurrying out of the mall, she allowed herself a smile of
relief. As she was about to step off the curb, she halted.
She stared at the wire coat hanger.
"I don't know what to do with this!"
Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the
frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she
began crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is
sick and he needs this medicine and my pie is in the
oven and the keys are locked in the car and, Lord, I don't
know what to do with this coat hanger. Dear Lord, send
somebody who does know what do with it, and I really
need that person NOW, Lord. Amen,"
She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car
pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her. A
young man, twentyish-looking, in a T-shirt and ragged
jeans, got out. The first thing she noticed about him
was the long, stringy hair, and then the beard that hid
everything south of his nose. He was coming her way.
When he drew near she stepped in front of him and
held out the wire coat hanger. "Young man," she said,
"do you know how to get into a locked car with one of
these?" He gaped at her for a moment, then plucked
the hanger from her hand.
"Where's the car?"
Telling the story, she said she had never seen anything
like it -- it was simply amazing how easily he got into her
car. A quick look at the door and window, a couple of
twists of the coat hanger and bam! Just like that, the
door was open.
When she saw the door open she threw her arms around
him. "Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a
good boy. You must be a Christian,"
He stepped back and said, "No ma'am, I'm not a Christian,
and I'm not a good boy. I just got out of prison yesterday."
She jumped at him and she hugged him again -- fiercely.
"Bless the Lord!" she cried. "He sent me a professional!"
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.0b3 on Tue Feb 23 1999 - 09:00:09 EST