Having answered my ad for a handyman A knock on my door offered the first applicant. I am apt to hire anyone at first sight and Never more so than when a poor supplicant Is as myself but I know my own weakness - Though that knowledge usually proves most worthless.
I let the man in and his look alone Already predisposed the situation to be in his favor. So, as usual, I hired him first and then began To inquire of him what was his traver. The man looked up to me and replied ”say what?” I stated, “ Your sir name?”
He looked puzzled and stated, “Sir name, what’s that?” “Well it’s your last name, sir.” His voice quivered as he spit it out, “Nazareth.” I kinda chuckled, “Say What?, Your first name – is it Jesus?” He nodded his head as I half jokingly asked “Is that Jewish?” “When can you start,” I asked handing him a wrench.
I explained that I had several tasks that needed completing Knowing full well that a Hebrew can do anything. We started with an outside light fixture which needed reseating. I showed him where the ladder was and in a flash as he was riding It up when 'Yahweh' started a low but cheery tune whistling As he glided up the rickety thing.
I swear to my soul had the man been able to do nothing but whistle His delightful tune - I would have not been better served. Having finished that task I took him to the next which required a chisel To skim off a bit of the top side of the front door which had become curved By its constant dragging upon the frame. He whittled it out whistling all the while just the same.
And from one task to the other we went fixing, repairing And finishing them all until I heard his stomach growl. I looked at my watch – it was after 12 – swearing To 'Yahweh' that I had no idea that I had made such a foul Keeping him from eating his lunch. He not having one was my hunch.
“No worries,” I said as I led him inside. We feasted on onions and tomatoes with all the trimmings. When finished I made us a *** of coffee with a piece of fried pie. As we ate I asked him what that tune was he was whistling. He said he didn’t know the title but that he knew only the words. He started whistling each line of the song like a songbird.
Between each whistled line he’d stop and speak the words. The words went something like this. “The lips of wisdom should always be closed Until the ears of understanding are fully exposed.” I had never heard this song before but from somewhere - And I know not where – I seemed to be aware -
He continued whistling a line and then saying the words:
The mark of an intelligent mind Has the ability to entertain A controversial thought without Necessarily adopting it. Then he just whistled on as he got up from the table.
I paid him and he set out the door back to his life As gallantly as any man ever does. He served me a day that ended up being my whole life. At the end of which I whistle as I go About my day satisfying both my physical And spiritual need to play and to know.
“The lips of wisdom should always be closed Until the ears of understanding are fully exposed.”
I like to take real life experiences and put them to paper so that I can remember them. I think any person who likes to write knows what I mean. This piece is in part, a story but the roles have been switched. I'll let you figure out which role I played.