Saturday, February 26, 2011

It Could Always Be Worse

At 5am, Noman awoke from sleep as if by a thunderclap--head and chest splitting down the middle.  He stumbled to the medicine cabinet, downed some Ibuprofen, and fell back to sleep in a fog of pain.  Two weeks of incessant cough, with fevers working mercifully down from highs of 102 degrees, were taking their toll.  Three hours later, Noman awoke as if by a second thunderclap--to the angelic choir of no-children ## 6, 7 & 8 playing.  The bliss he experienced startled him; he wasn't in pain.  His temperature was normal, and his bones no longer throbbed and ached like on old jalopy's.

Noman remembered the farmer's tale, who complained to his rabbi that he couldn't stand the tumult in his house. 'How many children do you live with?' asked the rabbi. 'Ten,' said the farmer, 'and they never stop making a clamor.' "This is what I want you to do,' said the rabbi, 'bring your chickens into your home and come back again.' The farmer didn't understand, but did what he was counseled to do.  This progressed until the man had brought pigs, cows, horses and every animal he owned into his house.  'So, how is your problem?' asked the rabbi.  'Terrible!' lamented the farmer.  "I used to get a little sleep before.  Now I can't get any.'  'This is what I want you to do.  Remove the horses, and come back again' said the rabbi.  So, the farmer removed the horses, next the pigs, and so on until all of the animals were out of the house, and only his family was left. "So, how is your problem now?' asked the Rabbi.  "Gone!' replied the farmer.  I sleep like a baby now that the house is so quiet.'

Noman never realized before how blissful it was just to feel normal.  He humbly thanks God for the favor.  But, being no man, he hastens to assure the almighty--if its OK with Him--that maybe he's had enough favors for awhile.

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