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Sing unto
the Lord
a new
song.
[Psalms 96:1]
*****************
Time: Present
Place: The Heavenly Throne
Room
Characters: The Elohim:
[FATHER: GRUFF VOICE];
[SON: GENTLE VOICE.],
and
Prayer-Pickup Angel Mishemaghilla*.
__________________
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock.
[SILENCE.]
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
[GRUFF VOICE]
[SIGH.]
"You may come forth,
Mishemaghilla!"
The Golden Heavenly Door
creeks open. It closes again,
and there can be heard some
murmured whispering in the
Heavenly Hallway.
A few stray speckled feathers float
into the Throne Room. More
whispering ensues from outside
in the hallway: a booming, masculine voice,
and a whiny, raspy one.
[GRUFF VOICE: VERY
LOUD AND STERN.]
"What are you DOING,
Mishe'? Come IN!"
A head pokes into the opened
crack of the Throne Door.
"My........LORD?"
[GENTLE VOICE:
PATIENT, AND KIND.]
"Yes?
What is it,
My Mishe'?"
"Uh.......Guard Olympicanikah
says I can't bring my HORSE
inside, my LORD!"
[GRUFF VOICE.]
"Guard Olympicanikah is
absolutely.....CORRECT!
No PETS are allowed inside the THRONE ROOM!"
The whiny, raspy voice replies.
"But......but.......!"
[GENTLE VOICE: PATIENT
AND KIND.]
"Why do you wish to bring
your horse inside, Mishe'?"
"Because.........he....I mean...
Schmutzie....... got FRIGHTENED on the way
back into the Third Layer,
my LORD! One of the
First-Layer-Lower-Level
DEMON'S horses broke through the Second Layer,
my LORD,
and SPOOKED him! Are
You SURE.....I can't bring
Schmutzie....INSIDE?"
[GRUFF VOICE: loud,
and stern.]
"Since when do the Prayer-
Angels ride HORSES......down
to EARTH?"
[GENTLE VOICE: patient
and kind.]
"Father, Angel Mishemaghilla
isn't riding his horse......."
[SIGH.]
"......he is.....giving Schmutzie
a ride on his wings while he
flies down to Earth and..... ....back."
[LOUD, STERN VOICE.]
"For WHAT?"
[GENTLE VOICE.]
"Well.......Mishe' just takes
his horse....... for COMPANY."
[VERY LOUD, STERN VOICE.]
"Our Angels do not NEED COMPANY! They are FEARLESS, and COURAGEOUS WARRIORS!"
(Whiny, raspy voice.)
"But.......but, FATHER!
I'm only a MAIL-CARRIER!
I've never BEEN to Warrior-
School, FATHER!
I'm not FEARLESS, OR
COURAGEOUS!"
(A big, velvety brown nose,
quite long, and sporting a butterfly-shaped white spot,
has butted the Throne Room
Door wide open, and is snorting.)
[SILENCE.]
(Whiny, raspy voice.)
"I'm sorry, FATHER!
poor Schmutzie tends to....SNORT.....when
he gets NERVOUS!"
[GRUFF VOICE: EXTREMELY
LOUD, COMMANDING,
AND STERN.]
"Come.......FORTH,
Angel Mishemaghilla!
You are holding up the whole
line of returning Prayer-Angels!
COME FORTH!"
Angel Mishe' bows his head,
and then turns around to pull
on his horse's green velvet
reins. Around the horse's soft
brown neck is a big golden bell
that doesn't stop tinkling.
The horse, that is Schmutzie,
has a big brown rump, and
rather plump sternum;
obviously Angel Mishe' has made
sure to carry more than
adequate buckets of hay,
fresh apples, and mellon-tarts,
on the Prayer-Mail trips, for
his plump, scared pet.
Mishe' and Schmutzie made
their way down to the Throne
Area. At the line of huge,
velvet pillows, brightly colored
and sweet smelling, both
angel and horse stopped moving,
and knelt,
somewhat clumsily down,
upon the big
soft kneeling pillows.
Schmutzie takes a bit longer to kneel down:
knobby legs,
unaccustomed to much work,
slowly folding under the horse's soft,
plump body and
long speckled mane of a tail.
He snorts, and gives a muffled
whinny.
Angel Mishe' reaches over
and places a sweaty palm
over Schmutzie's big toothy
snout: there is supposed to be
complete silence in the Throne Room
unless the Elohim speaks,
or gives permission to speak.
Mishe' bows his curly
brown hair, which is almost as
vevelty as the long
chestnut brown mane on
his horse. Then he pulls out
a small Golden Prayer Bowl out of long
folds of his sparkling, gauzy
angelic gown.
"I have come with a PRAYER-
REQUEST.....my LORD!"
[SOFT, PATIENT VOICE.]
"From whence have you come,
My Mishe'?"
Mishe' pulls out a big ziploc
bag out of his other gown pocket;
the bag is filled with
baby carrots sprinkled with
cinnamon sugar, plump juicy
raisins, tiny cherry-size apples,
and several little pumkin-tarts.
His face is all screwed up with
a look of cluelessness.
"What's..........a WHENCE?"
[GRUFF VOICE: FULL OF
FATHERLY STERNESS, ALBEIT PATIENT.]
"What part of EARTH.....
have you been to,
ANGEL MISHEMAGHILLA?"
"OH!
OH!"
Mishe' bobs his head up
and down, happily. He dumps
out the prayer slips from the
Golden-Prayer-Bowl, and zips
open the ziploc and upends it:
shaking several of the sweet
contents into the Special Bowl,
which is only supposed to be
used for collecting Prayers
from Earth. Mishe' gently pushes
it under Schmutzie's big snout.
Then, he nods again
and looks up at the Thrones.
"Yes, my LORD!
From the Land.. of the WEST!"
Mishe grabs the Prayer Slip,
that is lying on the Gold Floor
beside the Golden Bowl that
is now filled with a big horse
snout making slurping, and chomping noises.
Mishe' squints at the crumpled,
dirt-smudged piece
of Prayer-Paper.
".....From....the Land of the
ALAMO!"
[GENTLE NOD.]
[GENTLE VOICE: COMPASSIONATE, AND KIND.]
"Go on,
Angel Mishe'."
[GRUFF VOICE INTERRUPTS.]
"And, WHY.....
Angel Mishemaghilla,
is the Prayer-Paper,
which you have brought from
the Land of the West........
so SMUDGED, and WRINKLED?"
Mishe' looks up from silently
reading the Prayer-Paper: he
always has to read the prayers
to himself, first, before reading them
aloud to The Elohim; Earth-languages were
always very difficult to pronunciate.
"WHY?"
Mishe' squinted at the Heavenly air. He pushes up
the little tiny reading spectacles on his bulbous nose.
"Eh................
.....OH!"
Mishe' smiled broadly, and
his halo bobbed up and down,
furiously.
"I know WHY!
Cuz' this one's a RECYCLED
PRAYER, my LORD!
It's a PRAYER from LAST
YEAR! The EXACT, SAME
ONE! And........the POST-MASTER ANGEL decided to start RECYCLING
PRAYER-PAPERS! ANGEL
STAMPOMIAGINO says we
should DO that......to help the
TREES, my LORD!"
[GENTLE SIGH.]
[GENTLE CHUCKLE.]
[GRUFF SIGH.]
"Oy vey z'mir.
[SIGH.]
"Go.....ON,
Angel Mishemaghilla!"
Mishe's halo bobs up and down
again. He looks down at the
off-color, crumpled, dirty
piece of paper, and begins
moving his small, plump lips
very slowly, silently reading:
looking as if the words are foreign,
and very hard to
pronounce.
[GRUFF VOICE: VERY LOUD,
AND QUITE STERN.]
"ALOUD,
ANGEL MISHEMAGHILLA!"
Mishe' looks up: squinting
with great concentration.
"YES,
my LORD!"
Mishe' readjusts his halo-shaped,
light-blue reading glasses,
and is about to open his small, plump mouth,
when all of a sudden he stops
and glances up.
"But.......my LORD?"
[GRUFF VOICE: BECOMING
MORE AND MORE IMPATIENT WITH EACH
SYLLABLE ENUNCIATED.]
"What..........IS.....IT,
Angel Mishemaghilla?"
Mishe' pauses for a moment
to zip open the big ziploc bag,
and turn it upside down:
gently shaking some more
delicious tidbits of horse-snack
into the Golden Bowl, under Schmutzie's big snout.
Mishe very carefully
zips closed the plastic bag
and stuffs it back into his
gauzy-gown pocket. Then he
picks up the crumpled piece of
Prayer-Paper, again.
"But.....my.....LORD!
It's the SAME PRAYER.....
as.....LAST YEAR...on this
EXACT SAME DATE!"
[SILENCE: FULL OF
FATHERLY PATIENCE,
AND GRACE.]
"Aren't Ya gonna be.......
BORED?"
Mishe' waves the crumpled,
smudged, dirty-white Prayer-
Paper in the air; he squints
at the Thrones, worriedly.
[LONG PAUSE.]
[GENTLE SMILE.]
[GENTLE VOICE: FULL OF
COMPASSION, AND KINDNESS, AND LOVE.]
"We are never bored......
with the prayers.....
of......
Our
children."
*****************
For this
thing,
I besought
the Lord
three
times.
[2 Corinthians 12:8]
_________________________
*Yiddish: 'long, long,
long story....with no ending.
Copyright 2013.
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