the parable of the silky
Once there was a boy. Since the day he was born he had treasured a 1 x 1 square of blue silk cloth he called his silky. He loved his silky. It traveled with him everywhere he went. There was no sleeping without it. It had been torn and repaired. It was stained from years of meals and playing and who knows what else. It was truly a beautiful, cherished part of the boy's life.
Then one day when the boy was five years old the unthinkable happened. Silky disappeared. It had happened before. Silky would hide somewhere for most of a day or a night. It would spend the night at a grandparent's house. Once it had stayed gone for 48 hours and had been replaced in a fit of parental desperation by a far inferior substitute. Initially, the boy and his parents were sure this was just another of those random disappearances. Then silky stayed gone. Pockets were searched, nothing. The house was turned upside down, nothing. It was cleaned and searched from top to bottom, nothing. Cars were scoured, nothing. Tears were beginning to fall (not only by the boy). In desperation, parking lots where the family had traveled on the day of the disappearance were searched. Phone calls were made to stores hoping for a miraculous discovery in the lost and found - nothing.
Hours turned into days became weeks. The boy bravely turned to the substitute silky and managed to convince himself it was the real thing. Parents couldn't do it. Prayers were prayed. Surely God cared enough about the boy and his silky to reunite them. But nothing happened. Silky stayed gone. Sure that it had been lost in a parking lot, the parents began to resolve themselves to a world without the treasured friend.
But. . .
Christmas morning (of course it was Christmas morning), the boy wanted to run outside with his dad and brother to check out a new toy. A fuzzy pullover was grabbed out of the closet to cover some of his pjs against the north wind, but he couldn't get it on. Taking it to his dad to get help, he poked his hand into an arm hole. As he pushed through, something was in the way. Pushing harder, a piece of blue silk emerged from the arm hole. No, THE piece of blue silk emerged from the arm hole. In a mad rush to take off the fuzzy 3 weeks earlier, silky had been caught in the sleeve. Now it was home.
The family was called together to rejoice. More tears, these of joy, were shed. Other family members were called to celebrate. That which was lost had been found. The words "Christmas miracle" were heard spoken more than once. A thankful dad whispered a quiet "Thank you" to the God who does care about five-year old boys and their precious things.
The look on his face when that thing came through the arm hole made it worth the whole ordeal - almost.
j
Then one day when the boy was five years old the unthinkable happened. Silky disappeared. It had happened before. Silky would hide somewhere for most of a day or a night. It would spend the night at a grandparent's house. Once it had stayed gone for 48 hours and had been replaced in a fit of parental desperation by a far inferior substitute. Initially, the boy and his parents were sure this was just another of those random disappearances. Then silky stayed gone. Pockets were searched, nothing. The house was turned upside down, nothing. It was cleaned and searched from top to bottom, nothing. Cars were scoured, nothing. Tears were beginning to fall (not only by the boy). In desperation, parking lots where the family had traveled on the day of the disappearance were searched. Phone calls were made to stores hoping for a miraculous discovery in the lost and found - nothing.
Hours turned into days became weeks. The boy bravely turned to the substitute silky and managed to convince himself it was the real thing. Parents couldn't do it. Prayers were prayed. Surely God cared enough about the boy and his silky to reunite them. But nothing happened. Silky stayed gone. Sure that it had been lost in a parking lot, the parents began to resolve themselves to a world without the treasured friend.
But. . .
Christmas morning (of course it was Christmas morning), the boy wanted to run outside with his dad and brother to check out a new toy. A fuzzy pullover was grabbed out of the closet to cover some of his pjs against the north wind, but he couldn't get it on. Taking it to his dad to get help, he poked his hand into an arm hole. As he pushed through, something was in the way. Pushing harder, a piece of blue silk emerged from the arm hole. No, THE piece of blue silk emerged from the arm hole. In a mad rush to take off the fuzzy 3 weeks earlier, silky had been caught in the sleeve. Now it was home.
The family was called together to rejoice. More tears, these of joy, were shed. Other family members were called to celebrate. That which was lost had been found. The words "Christmas miracle" were heard spoken more than once. A thankful dad whispered a quiet "Thank you" to the God who does care about five-year old boys and their precious things.
The look on his face when that thing came through the arm hole made it worth the whole ordeal - almost.
j
posted by J at 11:10 AM
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