Garbage In Garbage Out

The pile of dirt in the wheelbarrow was beginning to concern the parson with every shovel full of dirt he tossed into it. At some point the load would need be carried around the house and down the steep hill that was his front yard to be emptied in the flowerbed he was preparing. There was a magical point where the load overreached the parson's aged ability to maintain control of the wheelbarrow on the sharp incline.

“Hello, Parson,” a voice called from the front of the house.

The parson tossed the shovel atop the pile of dirt in the wheelbarrow. He moved himself away from the task, walked around the house and found Ralph Peevy standing in his driveway. Ralph was a second-career pastor who had been assigned to a typical church just over the ridge that formed the east wall of the valley where the parson lived.

“Ralph, how are you?”

“I'm okay, Parson. I'm okay. I saw your car was in the driveway and thought I'd stop by. I just wanted to say hello.”

“That's kind of you, Ralph,” said the parson. “Come on in the house. Can I offer you a drink, tea, coke?”

Ralph said he couldn't stay long and declined. The parson noted the fading light and realized he'd worked longer than he needed. There was a meeting at the church that evening.

“Would you mind walking around the back with me?” the parson asked. “I need to pick up after myself.”

Ralph followed the parson to the back. The parson began to toss his earth working tools on the pile of dirt in the wheelbarrow. As he lifted the arms and began to roll his load toward his shed he commented. “How's the wife and children?”

Ralph reported on this family's health and activities. The parson listened with a friendly ear as he began to stack the tools in their proper place in the shed.

When the report seemed to be waning, the parson asked, “So, are you enjoying the church?”

Ralph began to relate his disappointment in his church. He'd been there for two-and-a-half years. The parson was aware of Ralph's capabilities which were considerable. The parson was aware of the tension that existed between the new pastor and his congregation. He was aware the tension primarily resulted from Ralph's insistence on living in a town over forty miles away several nights a week. It not only separated him from his flock, but ever time a member of the congregation drove past the empty parsonage, they were reminded of the pastor's absence.

Ralph talked about the lack of financial commitment of his church. He spoke of their narrow opinions of things in general and lack of exposure of much beyond their immediate community. The parson listened carefully.

Having completed putting away his tools, the parson moved the wheelbarrow to the side of the shed, upended it and dumped the dirt on the ground.

“Ralph,” said the parson, as he held the wheelbarrow up on its wheel. Would you mind spraying some water from that hose on this. I'd like to wash the mud out before I put it away.” The parson pointed to a hose with a nozzle coiled near where Ralph stood.

Ralph picked up the hose, pointed it toward the wheelbarrow and twisted the nozzle. Nothing happened. He looked down at the hose for a second and then suddenly turned in search of the water faucet. He walked over and twisted the handle. In a moment the water was rushing from the hose onto the wheelbarrow.

“Thanks, Ralph,” said the parson.

Ralph twisted the nozzle again to shut off the flow. He then walked over to the faucet and twisted it off also.

The parson was watching him. As Ralph stood from his task the parson said, “That's amazing, isn't it, Ralph.”

“What's amazing, Parson?”

“Nothing came out here until something was put in there.”

Comments

[Beach Walkin]

Another amen! I just wish there was a "chart" or something to let us know if we are putting enough in!!!!