The parson headed up the stairs of the apartment complex, a senor citizen village with rent based upon income. He was delivering some meals to two semi-home bound members of his church. They were two sisters living in adjacent apartments.
Knocking on the first apartment door he waited patiently for the older sister to come to the door. Eventually, she got there. The parson knew it wasn't her ninety-four years that slowed her as much as she never allowed herself to be seen without proper makeup and such.
“Hello, Parson,” she said, as she swung the door wide. “Come on in. It's really nice to see you.”
“Thanks,” the parson replied. “How about some chicken and dumplings for dinner.”
“Oh, my goodness, that will be wonderful,” she replied. “Can you stay ah moment?”
“Sure,” the parson said. “But not too long. I've got a few more of these to deliver.”
“I understand,” she said. “But I wanted to talk to you about my sister.”
“Is something wrong?” the parson asked.
“Oh, it's nothing catastrophic,” she smiled. “It's just I'm really concerned about her. She just doesn't get enough exercise. She sits there and watches television all day. I swear, Parson, she acts like an old woman with one foot in the grave. And she won't listen to a word I say.”
After a few more recitations on her sister's lifestyle, the parson excused himself to make his next delivery.
That delivery was next door. It was to her sister. Again the parson knocked on the door and waited a moment. As was usually the case he heard a voice calling out, “Come on in; the door's unlocked.”
The parson entered and saw her sitting in a recliner. As he'd been informed she was watching television. It was a pregame program discussing the Bears vs Lions game. As the parson came closer she picked up her clicker and muted the television.
“I think the Bears will take it tonight,” she said.
“I'll take your word for it,” said the parson. “I learned long ago you're more of an expert than I am on the NFL.”
The parson held out his package. “Could you use some chicken and dumplin?”
“Gracious, yes,” she relied. She sniffed the air. “I can smell it. I bet Alice Ponder cooked it.”
“She did,” said the parson. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“I'm sure I will, Parson.” she said. She leaned her eighty-nine-year-old frame toward the parson. “Can I talk with you a second about my sister.”
“Sure,” said the parson, lowering himself onto a footstool.
“I'm really concerned about her. You know, she's no spring chicken, but she acts like she doesn't need to be concerned about anything. I keep telling her she doesn't need to be so active. She should face the reality of her age and slow down.”
The parson nodded but said nothing.
“Did you know last week she went on some outing into the mountains. I mean they didn't just drive around. They hiked. Can you imagine that at her age. I wish you'd speak to her for me.”
She spoke a while longer. The parson made no commitment. After he'd excused himself he headed back to his car where Charlie Brown, his faithful canine companion, waited on the backseat.
“Sorry, that took so long,” said the parson to Charlie Brown, “But they are both their sister's keepers.”
and given half a chance ...we can all be exactly the same....
thank you, this made me laugh
Posted by: wondering aloud | October 17, 2011 at 04:21 AM