A short story

Once upon a time there was a king.

The king wanted a painting. He'd heard about a famous painter in a distant village. "I don't care how much it costs," said the king. He sent a messenger to the painter.

"My king wants a painting," said the messenger. "Ok," said the painter, "give me two million gold coins and come back later." The messenger paid.

The messanger came back a year later. "It's not finished yet," said the painter. "Come back later."

Ten years passed.

The messenger returned. "Where is the painting for the king?"

The painter grabbed a canvas and painted a painting. "Here, give this to the king."

"What, you just made it!" said the messenger.

"Yes," said the painter, "but I've been thinking about it for ten years."

John Lennon - 32 years ago

Here's a excerpt from a book he wrote. He was living in Ireland, the emerald green isle and preparing to move to Donegal in the remote northwest.

He met a shopowner in a Liberties, Dublin antique shop to buy mirrors for his travels. He gifted her a piece of gringseng cloth, a healing fabric from Bali.

“Wonderful," she said, "many thanks. Travel safe and look after yourself. Before you go I will reveal a small future to you,” she said.

“After Tiglin you will ramble across country to the Killarney hostel where, sadly and unfortunately, you will be awake in the predawn morning of December 8 hearing a BBC news announcer tell the world about John Lennon being shot in New York. You will turn your head to the wall and cry.

"Later you will take the black push bike down narrow wet twisted streets and meet a nun opening heavy steel black church gates and you will tell her what happened. You will push open the heavy wooden doors, genuflect, cross yourself, walk the length of a cold aisle and light votive candles in silence.

"Then you will ride into town and go to every news agent to buy every Irish paper with the screaming black tabloid headlines full of desperate black ink and grainy images of death personified before retiring to a pub to sit by a peat fire drinking, reading, and sadly, quietly remembering John’s creativity and his words Imagine and Give Peace a Chance.”

clean water for xmas

Christmas is coming, Orphan said to Elf.

Tell me about it. I'm getting crazy wish lists from kids around the globe.

Give me an example of some serious needs.

Sure, here's one from a girl in Cambodia.

"Please give me clean drinking water. I have a cell phone. It's great for entertainment but useless when it comes to meeting my real needs. Call me and tell me where I can get the water. And, if it's not too much to ask, could you please give me some medicine? My grandmother is dying of a broken heart."

Whew, that's a tough one, said Orphan. What are you going to do?

Damn the Mekong River and divert a stream of life to her village. 

Sounds perfect. What about the medicine? 

Will a placebo heal a broken heart?

Take two and call me tomorrow. Tomorrow knows the answer.

draw god

Once upon a time there was a class of kids. An art class.

One girl who didn't pay much attention in class was seriously focused on drawing.

For 20 minutes she kept her head down working on her paper.

Her teacher was curious. He walked over.

What are you drawing, he asked.

I am drawing the face of God, she said.

Surprised, the teacher said, But no one has ever seen the face of God.

They will in a moment, she said.