The town that frowned finds 'a truly good and holy spirit'
A Fable for Christmas
Once upon a time there was an unhappy town. The men and women moped around or drove through the streets with grumpy faces. Their children were always quarrelling and crying. Even the dogs and cats snapped and hissed at the few visitors who bothered to pass through. The shops looked forlorn and many of the houses were deserted because families had departed that unhappy place. No one knew how to change things.
One person alone was happy. This was an old man who lived just outside the town at the edge of the forest. Sometimes he came into town to buy food. The townsfolk called him Old Smiley. He was not one for many words. Still, his friendly smile cheered everybody up – for a short while. When he was gone the town sank into gloom again.
Now Old Smiley had also gained a reputation for being very wise. So the bank manager, who saw himself as a leader and did try to help the poorest customers at times, felt he should do something. He decided he would visit this old man and beg him to share the secret of his happiness.
Old Smiley greeted the bank manager with a joyful hug and invited him in. He sat his visitor down at the table. Then he put the kettle on for a pot of tea and started to cut a cake into slices, singing to himself all the while. The manager fidgeted. He had his ‘most important question’ but he thought it best to begin by covering the obvious.
‘You might be rich, eh?’ he asked tentatively.
‘Not especially, but I get by,’ Old Smiley responded, and returned to his song.
The bank manager looked around the room. Nothing of value here, he thought. It’s basic, and not much of it, so it can’t be about possessions.
‘Do you … er, have lots of excitement, entertainment … that sort of stuff?’
‘I visit your town. That’s nice.’ Old Smiley had stopped singing.
The tea was made and the cake pieces sat neatly on a plate. The manager felt the moment coming to ask the vital question. He hoped the old fellow couldn’t hear his heart pounding.
Old Smiley picked up the teapot and cake plate. He turned. The manager was astonished to see tears running down his face, all the way down to his raggedy beard.
‘Oh, what’s the matter? Can I help? Do you need a loan?’ On the spur of the moment that's the only thing the bank manager could think of.
Old Smiley set the things down. ‘No, I am crying because my heart is full to overflowing,’ he said. ‘For I’ve recognised that you truly long to change things.’
The bank manager began to cry too. In fact he cried his heart out while Old Smiley collected two mugs and two plates from a wooden shelf, brought them to the table, set out a slice of cake each and poured the tea. The manager wept on. He had not cried since he was six years old. And now he always had to grit his teeth and force his face into a grin, because it was his duty to try and cheer his townspeople up.
‘Yes, I do want to change things,’ he at last said, accompanied by a couple of sniffs. ‘I’m desperate for my town to be a happy one. I implore you. Teach me your secret.’
Old Smiley paused awhile, nodding and clutching his beard, and then he gave an unexpected answer. ‘I can teach you one thing. And you can repeat it once only. After that no one must ever mention it out loud again.’
‘Yes, yes, that’s fine,’ said his visitor eagerly.
‘It is this: There is a truly good holy spirit among you. Look for it. Find it. Now let’s eat and then you must go.’ And that was all the old man would say.
The bank manager was surprised, to say the least. But he dutifully returned to the town, called the people to a meeting and announced, ‘The wise man said that one of us is a truly good holy spirit.’ This puzzled the townsfolk, and they were not to know that it wasn’t exactly what Old Smiley had said. Then the manager added. ‘But we are never to speak about it again.’ Well, that puzzled the townsfolk even more and set them thinking.
Could it be me? thought Bill Williams to himself. No, I shout at my wife, and that’s certainly not holy. But it might be Angela Mirabel.
Could it be me? Angela Mirabel thought to herself. No, I lied to get out of trouble the other day and that’s not good at all. But it could be young Johnny Martin.
Could it be me? thought Johnny Martin. No, I stole Jane’s sweets right out of her hand and that’s not one bit of good or holy, but Jane might be the one.
Jane Grace knew it couldn’t be her. She didn’t think she had been horrible to anyone, but she moaned a lot and that made people miserable. She could tell because they turned their heads away rather than look at her. Except for nurse Joan who wheeled her around; maybe she was the one.
Could it be me? Joan Konrad asked herself. Oh no, definitely not. What about all the times I’m resentful, having to do everything for that wretched slobbering girl? That’s awfully mean-hearted, but what about…
And all around the town there was much wondering and looking out for signs of the truly good holy spirit. People approached one another in an interested sort of way and spoke kindly. But no one ever mentioned out loud why they did this.
It wasn’t long before across the town citizens were smiling when they met and saying, ‘How are you today?’ Even to poor Jane Grace, and many were willing to wait while she wrung out her answer. People started inviting one another home for tea. Many began helping others they hardly knew. Gardening was done when news got round that someone was unwell, shopping was done for them, bins were brought in and neatly stacked – things like that. Shopkeepers no longer grew impatient with slow doddery old folk but rather helped to pack their purchases. Children willingly shared their toys and stopped fighting. In their cars drivers were polite at intersections. Even the dogs and cats received plenty of pats and strokes as they basked in the sun.
As time went by the town gained a reputation as the most kind-hearted place around. Many new people moved in and soaked up the welcoming mood. Eventually people stopped looking for the one person with a truly good holy spirit. No one remembered wise old Smiley’s message anyway. But the strange thing was, it didn’t seem to matter.
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