Wormy Intro

TALES FROM WORMY WOMP-PILE
Introduction

"I am a worm, and no man" (Psalm 22:6)

Which worm would you become should you be given the choice to become a worm?

Worms, we know, are insignificant little creatures at best, and at their worst, they are they which one would desire to be unaware of altogether, should one be given such a choice.

Such is a people perspective of a simple little creature who has no other purpose but to remain alive until that time they are alive no longer.

Wormy perspective is discernably different from people perspective. And should you be in doubt of such a singular statement; feel free to inquire of any of the inhabitants of Wormy Womp-pile in order to ascertain if what I have told you is not so.

Wormies are a people in the eyes of other Wormies, that is if worms had eyes with which to view other Wormies with. Any one Wormy is wondrously unique from all other Wormies in a Wormy's acquaintance; just as different as you or I in the eye of one another.

Wormy Womp-pile is a world wonderfully bundled into a weird mixture of wondrously created worms; with each worm working diligently to make a workable world for himself and for the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile. This is not an easy feat to affect when one considers how woefully similar to we people the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have become.

One consideration to consider is their desires to cling to the earth from which they came, and to dig a hole in the same in which to climb.

While pondering the above point; ponder further that the worms of Wormy Womp-pile are disinclined to be inclined toward working in such a way which is workable for themself or for the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile.

Perhaps a pointed illustration will amplify my point to a point in which it may be more appropriately appreciated.

Consider this for the one hand, which hand will of needs be either yours or mine since none of the inhabitants of Wormy Womp-pile have a hand which they may offer. Worms are wonderfully adept at being inept with that which pertains to the imagination. Fiction, fantasies and fabrications abound in and on each and every mound upon which the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have chosen for their abode. This is not as much of a revealing revelation as it may seem considering that none of the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have a brain with which to do otherwise.

And for the other hand, it is yet the same; for either hand is one hand more than we would have had, had we chosen to be a worm in the realm of Wormy Womp-pile.

Worm & Caterpillar

TALES FROM WORMY WOMP-PILE
The Worm and the Caterpillar

"And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Rom 12:2)

Let it be known; the tale I am about to tell is older than time itself. But tho it is worn, and stiff and stale, tell no one the end, be no tattle-tale.

One day an old worm waddled into Wormy Womp-pile, odd and strange, and covered with fuzz from his tail to his nose. Now therein lies an oddity in itself, since none of the inhabitants of Wormy Womp-pile even have a nose upon which to be fuzzy.

And if fuzzy nose was yet enough, the funny fact that this worm had legs upon which to waddle was fairly funny-peculiar and an oddity all in itself; For no worm whatsoever had ever wandered into Wormy Womp-pile upon legs before nor since.

"Have you seen the wooly old worm who wandered into Wormy Womp-pile this day?" inquired Windel Worm inquiringly.

"Yes I have," responded Worthington Worm respondingly. "And I must declare, he is the first worm I have ever witnessed with legs with which to walk upon. It surely causes one to wonder, does it not?"

"Surely it does, Worthington" replied Windel Worm respectfully. "And I must declare, such an odd worm, with a multicolored coat of wool, which in itself runs contrary to any one worm I have yet to encounter, must surely not be one which one such as we should intentionally encounter."

"I must whole-heartedly agree," agreed Worthington Worm agreeably. "When a worm such as the one we witnessed today saunters into such a small and simple site as Wormy Womp-pile on legs, and such a multitude of legs at that, it would behoove one to wander with caution about such a one, would it not?"

"Assuredly it would," assured Windel Worm assuringly. "And I must declare that I for one will have nothing whatsoever to do with that wooly old worm; for I find a fear far within my frame which warns me of something wondrously weird about any one worm with wool upon its nose."

"Which makes the two of us of one accord regarding the wooly worm with a nose with which to have wool upon and legs with which to walk thereon," concurred Worthington Worm concurrently. "And I would surely suggest that all worms such as we support such a sensible suggestion."

And so it goes that yet another rumor regarding a wandering wanderer is begun in a simple little burrow such as Wormy Womp-pile. Now it must be said that such a rumor in itself in such a small burrow is not in itself such a terrible thing considering the fact that few stories of any sort are available to any-worm in Wormy Womp-pile. Nor would any such stories be of much significance considering that none of the residence of Wormy Womp-pile have ears with which to hear such stories, nor hearts with which to judge one way or another about such stories should one hear them in the second place.

Now it must be known and understood that what I have told you above is for your ears only since, tho none of the worms of Wormy Womp-pile have ears with which to hear nor a heart with which to discern, they are totally unaware of this fact, and so therefore believe they have ears with which to hear and a heart with which to discern. And thinking such thoughts without a brain with which to think is surely a dangerous situation indeed when all is considered. Don't you think?

If you are wondering about the wooly old worm which wandered into Wormy Womp-pile; Fear not, for we have not forgotten him, and for all that we will forthwith inform you of all information we have found affecting him.

Woolly, if we may so refer to him as such, for such is surely a distinguishing distinction which distinguishes him from all the other worms within Wormy Womp-pile, is unaware of the agitated attitudes of the community into which he has wandered. Nor, might I add, is he apparently appreciative of such an appalling state of affairs affecting his future.

Fortunately for our furry friend, there is but one worm in all of Wormy Womp-pile which is either unaware of the prevailing attitude attributed toward this total stranger; or is unappreciative of the unsubstantiated conclusions which have been cast toward this castigated creature which has wandered into such a wormy wonderment.

"Greetings, brother worm, welcome to our Womp-pile," greeted Willie Worm graciously. "Have you wandered far before finding our fabulous field we call home?"

"That I have," replied the wooly old worm respectfully. "I began this final leg of my journey long, long ago and far, far way from the point at which I now walk with finality," the wooly old worm concluded conclusively.

"From whence have you journeyed?" inquired Willie Worm inquiringly.

"That is rather difficult to speculate," speculated the wooly worm speculatively. "I would venture to speculate that I have traveled at the least two hundred yards from the point at which I first began my journey."

"That is indeed a great distance for any one worm to have wandered," announced Willie Worm with amazement. "For I myself have not ventured farther than a few feet from the hole from which I was born. And did I not, if I may so inquire, hear you say that you were on your last leg of your journey? It appears to me, sir, if I may say so, that you have many, many more legs to use and to lose before such a journey is concluded. May I further inquire, if I am not being too inquisitive of a stranger such as yourself, how many legs more you had when you first began your adventure, and further, if I may be so bold, how you came to acquire even but a few of the many legs you now stand upon so regally?"

"I do not mind at all your mentioning such, nor your inquiries," responded the wooly old worm responsibly. "For you see, we caterpillars are provided with legs, and all other such necessities, in order to fulfill the requirement which is required of each and every one of us. If it were not so that we were provided with such, we would certainly be totally incapable of fulfilling such requirements. Concerning your inquiry regarding my reference to this being my last leg, my meaning is that this burrow of yours called Wormy Womp-pile is where I am destined to fulfill my final destiny."

"Sir, if I may say so, once again your responses to my requests have inspired yet another bevy of inquiries, so therefore, if I may pry further," queried Willie Worm questioningly. "What is a destiny, a word of which I have never heard nor had mentioned in my presence, yet one I have always wondered about deeply; and what, pray tell, is a caterpillar, and how does one become one should one ever choose to become whatever a caterpillar is and will be destined to further fulfill?"

"That is a wise set of questions you have set before me, Willie Worm, and questions I am more than willing to provide you with adequate explanations withal," answered the wooly worm, anxiously. "First and foremost I will answer your last question first in order that you may finally understand the last question before I explain the first question, which of course I will answer last. And now that you fully understand why I am answering your last question first, I will proceed with the last question which I fully intend to fully expound before proceeding to the first question, which, of course I will answer last.

"Firstly, my friend, a caterpillar is a creature which is chosen to become that which is not possible for any creature to become; yet, through no will or initiative of its own, it is able to become that which all creatures who are not, wish to become should they be able to become such. This may seem to one who does not understand, an impossible task; and that conclusion is entirely true, in spite of the fact that such an occurrence does occur upon those who have been chosen for it to occur upon.

"Of course I am sure you were already aware of what I have just witnessed to you, but I tell you that in order that you may more fully understand that which I am about to tell you after I tell you this. A caterpillar, as I am sure you are fully aware, is but an intermediate step betwixt being a worm, of which you are, and that for which you are fully destined to become. However it is an unfortunate fact that few fellow worms ever find the faith with which to fulfill that destiny which has been provided for him.

"Once again, I am sure you are fully aware of what I have just witnessed, however you needed to know that in order to understand this which I am about to tell you so that you can more fully understand that which I have just told you, since had you not understood that, there would be no way that you could understand this which I am about to tell you which you need to know in order to better understand what I am going to tell you forthwith.

"From that which I have just told you, I am certain that you have come to the conclusion that being a caterpillar is a wonderful thing to become. I am sure that when you look upon me, that is if you had eyes with which to look hereon, that you will find many ways in which I have been bountifully blessed. You see me with eyes with which to see, and legs with which to walk, and a lovely coat of many colors with which to keep me warm. And they are lovely things to have indeed, however with them comes responsibilities that are far beyond the capabilities of mere worms such as yourself.

"This lovely coat of many colors you see, if you had eyes with which to see, is given in order to keep me warm while I work the work which has been set before me to accomplish. For unlike you, as well as I before becoming a caterpillar, I can no longer crawl into a hole in the ground, nor a fresh womp-pile in order to warm myself. Nay, contrarily, I have nowhere to lay this head that has been given me, nor a home of which to call my own.

"And this mouth which has been given me has not come as freely as one might believe, for it has been provided for just such a purpose as that which I am purposing at this moment, which is to tell those of Wormy Womp-pile, as well as other womp-piles throughout the world, what awaits them if they so choose.

"And these legs, which are many, tho very slow indeed, are provided in order to carry me throughout this field proclaiming what I am proclaiming to you at this moment.

"But the task is far from effortless, and in fact is fairly arduous to say the least. For as you can see, if you had eyes with which to see, there is none beside me, for I have had to forsake friends and family as they had forsaken me, for they would not release themselves from the earth to which they are bound, nor could they see the vision I have seen; and that is the vision which is my destiny which will be fulfilled here directly.

"And the name which I bare, as lovely as it may sound to the ears, if you had ears with which to hear, in actuality means 'devil or ravager cat' at worst, and 'hairy cat' at best. That bane of which you may have witnessed with your friends here in Wormy Womp-pile wherein they shun me at best, and curse and cast me out at worst."

"That is a wonderful story indeed, if only I had ears with which to hear, and a heart with which to understand that which you have witnessed to me," proclaimed Willie Worm pointedly. "Were I to choose to become a caterpillar such as you, and be willing to leave all behind such as you have described, and hope for a destiny which you say we all are destined to have if we so choose, what must I do?"

"You cannot choose to become a caterpillar, for that is not a choice for you to make. You must be chosen for such a destiny, for which few are chosen," said the wooly old worm woefully.

"I, therefore, cannot become a caterpillar, even if I wished to become one with all my heart, if I had a heart with which to wish with fully?" responded Willie Worm dejectedly.

"You may choose to be chosen, should you desire to be chosen with all your heart, which, I am afraid you cannot do since you do not have a heart with which to desire at all with," responded the wooly old worm woefully.

"How then may I find such a heart, as I surely must assume that one may be found since you, sir, seem to have found one for yourself in order to desire fully with in order to become such as you are," rejoined Willie Worm hopefully.

"There is a way," proclaimed the woolly old worm pointedly, "But it is a difficult way at best to find, and few there are who even seek it; for the way is very ugly and froth with thorns and thistles of all natures, unlike the way we worms wish to walk or wiggle; that is in fields of flowers and warm womp-piles. But first, before you venture forth on such a venture, you must realize that the ugly route you must take is within yourself. Therefore you must see and say that what you are is but a worm, which those of Wormy Womp-pile will have little difficulty in doing. Then, thenceforth and thereafter you must recognize and adamantly proclaim that what you are is less than any worm the which of whom you have ever judged as being the lowliest of worms. And what is worse than wishing the worst on any worm?

"Thereafter and thence forth you must look inside yourself and search for and flush out all the filth and sludge and canker and grime which has been festering under the surface of your soul unbeknownst to you whatsoever.

"What I have hereby professed is that which you have wished me to declare, and that is the route which I have walked upon in which to reach my destiny. If there are others, of which I have heard of but am in doubt, I cannot tell, for only the path I have taken can I proclaim.

"And finally, my young friend who has listened to this old worm so patiently, I wish you the best of life in this short life we live running from womp-pile to womp-pile, and from worm hole to worm hole in search of peace and contentment; of which, I assure you will not be found in whatever womp-pile you explore.

"But the time has come for me. I have fought a good fight, and run a good race, after which my destiny awaits. Farewell."

Willie Worm watched as the wooly old worm waddled up the path to a high sycamine tree, whereupon he perched upon a leaf which thereupon he rested. After a while the wooly old worm did that which Willie nor any of the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile had ever witnessed before. That old wooly worm hung himself from a twig of the tree and began to wind himself into a wispy womb until he disappeared from Willie's sight altogether.

Willie Worm watched for oh so long, waiting for the old wooly worm to reappear from the womb, for he had yet many questions he wished to inquire of the wise old worm; Questions which burned deeply in what would have been his heart, if worms had a heart, in which to burn.

But the old wooly worm never withdrew from his womb, though day after day Willie Worm ventured forth with questions still burning, hoping to see the old wooly worm that could only have died in a tomb of his own making.

Willie Worm was not the only worm of Wormy Womp-pile who visited the sycamine tree; no indeed. Many others of Willie's acquaintance passed by the tall tree with the wispy white tomb hanging from a twig of the tree. They all stared and wondered about the womb that had become a tomb, and often wondered as well what had happened to the old wooly worm who had journeyed into Wormy Womp-pile, only to disappear and never to be seen or heard from again, even if worms had eyes with which to see and ears with which to hear.

One warm Springy day Willie Worm, as was his custom from that first chance encounter with the old wooly worm who now hung from a twig of a sycamine tree, went forth to watch the wispy womb which had become a tomb for the old wooly worm.

"I wonder, as I always wonder each day and each time I pass by or stand beneath this old sycamine tree, what the destiny will be for which the old wooly worm sought so earnestly," Willie Worm wondered earnestly. "Such a destiny to strive for surely is not to be bundled into a shroud of one's own making, only to die and be dead within sight of all who can see. Surely he must be destined for a destiny far superior to that which I see."

While Willie Worm pondered the preceding, he witnessed a wiggling of the womb which had become a tomb which hung from a twig on a high sycamine tree.

Excitement charged the spot which would have been a heart, if worms had a heart, of Willie Worm as he watched the tomb which may not be a tomb wiggle and wobble and wind every which way.

Willie Worm watched the womb excitedly, then within moments Willie witnessed what appeared to be a worm's head worm its way from beneath the tomb which now was obviously a womb, then struggle and wiggle and wobble with all his might in effort to work his way free from the womb of wound wispy windings with which he had bound around himself like a tomb.

"Hurray!" Willie Worm exclaimed excitedly, applauding and cheering as if he had hands with which to clap and legs with which to leap.

Within moments it was wondrously obvious that the wooly old worm would win his battle with the womb he had wound and would abound free from the womb which bound him as would a tomb.

Wiggle, wiggle, jump and jiggle went the wispy wound womb as the old wooly worm began to emerge from the wispy womb. Little by little the jiggle increased until it was clear that the wily old worm had defeated the tomb and was indeed fulfilling his destiny, whatever it might be.

Then wonder of wonders was there to behold; for there before Willie Worm's eyes emerged what should have been a wooly old worm; but no such thing did occur, but rather what came forth was a fanciful and beautiful fairy-like creature with wings of rainbow hue which spread its wings and did soar high in the sky, appearing ever so much like a flower in flight and riding upon a rainbow.

"Destiny awaits you, my son," sang the wooly old worm which was now a soaring flower riding upon a rainbow. "Do not defeat it, but rather do deny yourself and fight the good fight which is before you. Farewell."

Willie Worm watched as the flittering flower which was and had become his friend did fly away upon a rainbow toward whatever it was which is and will forever become the destiny of the wooly old worm who was so full of wisdom and with a heart with which to share that which a worm is without.

And so ends yet another Womp-pile tale

[Story inspired by: Luke 14:26-28; Jn 17:13-23; Matt 7:1-2; 13-23; 20:16; Eph 2:8-10; Phil 2:12-14; Tim2:11-12; Rom 12:2; 1Cor 11:31-32]

The Rollercoaster

The Rollercoaster

"Ladies and Gentlemen, young and old, sit back, buckle up, and prepare yourself for the ride of your life.

"You will have thrills, you will have spills, you will have chills, you will on occasion feel like giving up.

"And there will be times you will wish to get off this roller coaster, but please don't, it's a long drop.

"Don't let the name Roller Coaster fool you; Coast is something you will rarely do on this ride. And when you find yourself coasting, reconcile yourself, you are merely being prepared for yet another topsy-turvy adventure. And adventure, along with the experience, discoveries and knowledge gained on each, is what this ride is all about.

"Take note that the vehicle in which you are to experience this ride is not attached to any other vehicle on the track. Others may be very near, and may occasionally touch, or even ram your vehicle, but none can control it but you yourself, and the Management of this ride.

"But be not dismayed, you will not be alone on your journey. You will be carefully observed and supported throughout the ride, even through the times you feel abandoned and on your own.

"Please look on the seat beside you. There you will find a Book of instructions. Refer to this Book whenever you are in doubt, when you are afraid, and when you need comforting. In fact, regular study and familiarization with these instructions is highly recommended.

"In front of you are your controls. At your right foot is the brake peddle that you may use to slow or stop your vehicle. There will be many times that you will desire to use the brake, especially when approaching what appears to be a very dangerous curve or twist of the track. Resist the temptation to use the brake. Use of the brake is addictive. The more often you apply it, the more likely you will be to use the brake for less and less perilous situations. And the less you use the brake, the stronger will be your confidence in the vehicle, the track, the Management, and in yourself. Use of the brake produces fear, depression, a feeling of powerlessness, and a lack of self esteem.

"Conversely, ignoring the brake produces confidence, joy, a sense of empowerment, and ever-expanding faith.

"The Management and Creator of this rollercoaster highly recommends that you do not touch the brake which is at your disposal.

"Directly in front of you is a steering wheel. This steering wheel is not an ornament, it is fully functional.

"You will find many occasions on this ride in which you will be tempted to use this steering wheel, especially in the beginning of your journey. Like the brake at your feet, the more times you utilize the steering controls the more often you will be tempted to use it in the future.

"On the track before you are numerous junctions where the track creates choices for you to make. And at these junctions you will be tempted to steer your vehicle onto what appears to be the most interesting, or the easiest of the choices. It is strongly advised that you consult your Book of instructions at these junctures.

"Should you choose the wrong track, you will have difficulty finding your way back to the main track. But it is important that you use diligence in doing so, as the farther you venture from the main track, the less will be your resolve to return, until your desire disappears altogether.

"But don't be discouraged. Side tracks are adventures unto themselves, and the lessons learned at each are for your benefit. Side tracks are a part of the Mastercreation of this rollercoaster. They are not built for your detriment, but for your achievement. The dangers are only present if you allow yourself to become trapped or comfortable in the side tracks.

"Next to you in your vehicle, in the passenger seat, is your Helper that the Manager and Creator of this park has provided for your comfort and assistance. You will not see him, and will rarely be aware of him since your full attention will be on the track ahead, and the experience of the moment. But he is there none the less.

"On those occasions when a decision has to be made, it is highly recommended that you ask his guidance. And like the Book of instructions, it is also highly recommended that you get to know him well, and follow his guidance.

"You will also find that the more control you take of your vehicle, the less you consult your Book of instructions, and the less you consult your Helper - the farther your Helper will withdraw from your side. Should you become aware of this withdrawal, and that you are not consulting him as often as you had been, and that you have not been referring to your Book of instructions - then immediately stop what you are doing, study your Book of instructions, and have a long discourse with your Helper.

"The above is especially important if you find yourself feeling comfortable in that abandoned state.

"And finally, throughout your journey, keep in mind that this ride is for your benefit. The more you put into it, the less you hold back, the more you learn to trust the ride, your Helper, your Book of instructions, and the Manager-Creator of this ride - that much more you will get out of your journey."

TEST OR TRIBULATION

This adventure, this rollercoaster called Life, is what you make of it. It is a treat, it is treacherous, it is whatever portion of the experience you concentrate on.

It is like Sweet and Sour Pork. Both are there, both come together; but whether it is sweet, or whether it is sour, depends on that which you choose to taste from it.

A child who sits on his father's shoulders is "high." A mountain climber who ascends Mount Everest is "High." An astronaut circling the moon is "high."

A man or woman who never allows themself to ascend higher than their father's shoulders will believe that they have reached "high enough," and will be afraid of going any higher. Meanwhile, the mountain climber sees fear as a challenge, and seeks higher mountains to climb.

Those who use the brake of their vehicle, that is this body and all it encompasses, will often only feel safe and comfortable when life is at a slow pace, or is stopped altogether. But the Rollercoaster of life never stops; it is either going forward slowly in preparation for yet another "out of control" experience; or it is going backward into the familiar and mundane, seeking stability.

The familiar feels safe, like "family" where all pretty well know what to expect from one another. The convict in prison feels "safe." The employee on the assembly line feels "safe." The child or wife in an abusive home feels "safe."

The feeling of safety comes with familiarity. Change produces fear, and the fear of change compounds that fear. A person may hate the situation they are in, and even fear it greatly - but the fear of change into the unfamiliar is even more frightening.

And fear is the opposite of faith. Faith demands change. Faith is achieved, and is cultivated by moving into the unknown, the untried, and the fearful.

Faith is a muscle. If it is exercised, it grows in strength. If it is pushed to its limits, it grows even stronger and faster.

A muscle not exercised will atrophy, that is, weaken and wither, like a flower without rain.

We pray; "God, give me faith." What we mean is, "God, make me into a world class contender while I lay here in bed and sleep."

God will provide what you ask for, if you truly want it. He provides the stairs for you to reach it, but you have to climb.

And the more you climb, the easier it becomes to climb, and the more and faster you desire to climb.

Man was created as an obsessive-compulsive creature. He (and of course I mean "she" as well) has more than just a drive to survive and reproduce as do others of His creation. He is driven to do, to accomplish, even to excel.

And whatever he directs that drive toward, he wants more of it. And the more he gets, the more he wants. That direction may be money, fame, love....

Or it may be Faith.

Or it may be God.

Like the dieter, who when he is dieting, loses weight rapidly, and when he is no longer dieting, puts it on rapidly..

But how about lazy people, how can they be called obsessive-compulsive? Lazy is the direction in which they have directed their efforts. And the longer they are on this earth, the lazier they become.

Have you ever heard the expression, "If you want something done, go to a busy person"?

Or have you ever heard, "Be careful what you wish for (and that especially applies to pray for) because you are just liable to get it."?

If you want strong muscles, expect to receive a very heavy box of weights, a job lifting bales of hay, or a shovel stuck in a very large pile of manure that must be moved.

If you desire Faith, watch for a very rickety old stairs which leads to dilapidated bridges over treacherous ravines. And when you are able to run the course blindfolded, and joyously do so, you will know that you have been "given" that which you have prayed for.

Life is a tribulation for those who wish to hide from it.

Life is a test for those who challenge it and strive to meet its challenge.

Tumbleweed

The Race

The Race

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time there was a Tortoise and a Hare. No, not the ones in the nursery rhyme, but relatives of theirs. Now, a wolf (from the piggy story, not Riding Hood) challenged the Tortoise and the Hare to a race, and the prize? The winner wouldn't be eaten. And this race was to take place in six months in the midst of Spring, allowing fair time for all to prepare.

Since the stakes were high, each of the participants considered seeking advise from others in their family who had been in similar situations.

Wolf sought advice from his cousin Fox who warned him about rabbits hiding in briar patches, and about tar babies; and Cousin Coyote who had a tendency to ramble on about Roadrunners and their dirty tricks.

Tortoise sought council from his Grandfather who once had to race against a hare, and won. Grandpa Tortoise cautioned young Tortoise to exercise the cunningous of a Coyote, the Cleverness of a Fox, the determination of a Wolf, and the speed of a Jack Rabbit.

Hare, confident and cocky, considered asking his Grandfather who had been in a similar race with a turtle, but decided that it wasn't necessary since he was so fast and smart anyway. Besides, hadn't his grandfather lost that race?

So Hare decided that the Philosophical approach would be the best for him. He pulled out his Lazy Boy recliner, surrounded himself with rich food and sodas, and watched the rains and cold winds of Fall and Winter pass by the window of his burrow.

Then, with a thick chocolate shake in one hand, he prepared to read the many books stacked beside his chair. He tossed aside; Exercise To Grow Fit; and Speed - Your Key To Avoid Becoming Rabbit Stew. Then, he settled down to study the books he had chosen; Self-Satisfaction, Your Door To Happiness And Success; and THINK Your Way To Becoming A Winner.

Meanwhile, back on the route chosen for the race, Tortoise spent his mornings examining the road. He watched the way birds and snakes skittered away into the underbrush and into holes when danger approached. He examined, and tried every hollow log, craggy stump and rock pile for potential hiding places. In the afternoons he ran as far and as fast as he could, building up his stamina. Then in the evenings he did pushups and stretches. He tried doing setups and back-bends, but found his shell a little restricting.

The day of the race arrived. Tortoise, lean and mean, lumbered up to the starting line. Then Hare, now three times the size he had been, waddled up to the line, with a big sack lunch under one arm, and a Theory book under the other.

Wolf, to be fair, sat on a log to give his opponents and prospective "dinner guests" time to get a good head start.

Guess who Wolf took to dinner that evening?

[The above story is an excerpt from The Abstract musician, which was originally intended to demonstrate the importance of practice.]

The Clubhouse

The Clubhouse
Ego

No one likes to be left out.

Once upon a time there were three little boys. And these little boys, like many, perhaps even most little boys, were not very good at anything they tried.
In baseball they, "Threw like girl." In dodge ball they were always hit. In tag they were always "it." In hide-'n-go-seek, no one sought for them.

They were out. Out of everything.

One day, a cloudy day, as I recall, the boys happened upon a large cardboard box. Now to you and me that box would not be so large, but to three small boys, it was a very large box.

"Let's see if we can fit in the box," one of the brighter of the little boys said.

"Ok,"replied one of the other boys, the outspoken one.

So that's what they did. And, to their great pleasure, they all three did indeed fit into the box. In fact, it was so large that they wondered if maybe, if they all squeezed together, they could even fit a small puppy in with them.

"Do you have a small puppy?" one of the boys queried, to no one in particular.
"No, I don't have a puppy," replied another. "Do you have a puppy?"

"I asked you first. Remember?" Responded the first of the inquirers.

"Oh, yeah," remembered the second inquirer. "Do you have a puppy?"

"Nope," replied the outspoken one.

"No puppy. But at least we have room for a puppy."

All this to say; it was a very large box for three small boys to find.

"I have an idea!" exclaimed the first of the small boys, who obviously was rising to his place as leader of the three outcast boys.

"What?" inquired the second, obviously suited best to be a follower.

The outspoken little boy said nothing. He was obviously the intellectual of the three.

"Let's make a clubhouse out of this box."

"Good idea,"said the second in command. He had already learned that it was good policy to massage the ego of the one who had elected himself to be in charge.

"Can't. No room," the outspoken one spoke out.

"There's room for a puppy," replied one of the other boys. I'll let you decide which one it was.

"Who's going to be in our club," inquired boy number two, careful not to usurp the authority of the one in authority.

"No room," said the intellectual child. "Just for a puppy."

"He's right, said the obvious leader. "So we'll just have us three in the club, and no more."

"The Three Musketeers," boy number two hollered.

Boy number one, who had the foresight to bring into the box with him a stick, held it high in the air like a sword. "One for one, and all for all," he exclaimed!

Then the three studied the hole the sword-stick had poked in the top of their box.

"Hope it don't rain," ventured the intellectual child.

"We need rules," said one.

"And signs," responded another.

The outspoken one said nothing. He had already begun to scribble on a piece of cardboard with a crayon he always carried with him for just such a momentous moment.

"Write, keep out."

"And, that means you."

"And, no girls allowed."

"For sure. And make that the biggest one."

"Only puppies."

"Yeah, only puppies. No cats, only puppies."

"No girl puppies though. Only boy puppies."

"We have that covered with the no girls sign."

"How will we know if it's a girl puppy or a boy puppy?" quizzed the second in command.

"Boy puppies have longer ears than girl puppies," informed the intellectual child.

"Oh, yeah."

So the clubhouse was finished. And what a magnificent clubhouse it was! There was not a finer cardboard clubhouse on that entire block. And certainly not one which advertised for one small puppy.

*

"It's not fair," said the gathering children of the neighborhood. "Why should they have their own clubhouse, and not let us in?"

"I wish I was born a boy so I could join, and get to go in that big box."

"It's just not fair."

So said all the children of the neighborhood.

Baseball games were suspended. Hop scotch squares sat idle on sidewalks. And jump ropes hung limp at little girl's sides as all watched and glared at the forbidding keep out signs taped threateningly on all sides of the cardboard clubhouse.

"Let's kick it in," menaced one of the bigger boys standing outside jealously admiring the magnificent structure.

"Naw," replied one of the more sensitive of the spectators. "I got a better idea. Let's go find a box and start our own club."

"Good idea," responded another. "And we won't let any one in. Not even puppies!"

"That's no fair," exclaimed the girl with the jump rope laying limp at her side. "Why can't we join too?"

"That's ok," conjectured the girl with the large stick of sidewalk chalk in her hand. "I know where there's an even bigger box. We can use it and start our own clubhouse."

"And paint it blue."

"No, pink."

"Yes, pink."

"And no boys allowed."

"Only us girls."

"Right. And no puppies."

"Only kittens."

"Kittens only. Right. No boys or puppies."

*

On that neighborhood block now stood a number of large cardboard boxes, one painted a magnificent pink that emitted an occasional meow. All structures dedicated to individualist isolationism and each having the certainty that they are the truly superior one, and that all others were merely imitations.

*

"What do you want to do?" inquired one of the little boys nestled uncomfortably in their cardboard clubhouse.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I don't care. What do you want to do?"

"It's raining."

"I know. And it's dripping on my head from that hole you poked in the roof with that stupid stick of yours."

"Don't call me, stupid, stupid. You're the stupid one."

"I didn't call you stupid, stupid. I called the stick stupid."

"You can't call my stick stupid, stupid. You're stick is the stupid one, stupid."

And so goes yet another establishment, as the rains continued to fall.

And the cardboard clubhouse did, as all cardboard does, what cardboard is intended to do, especially when the weather changes for the worse.

Tumbleweed

From henceforth there shall be five in one house divided, three agains two, and two against three. (Luke 12:52)