Charlie and the Cooking Factory
“Could you hurry up with that ounce of prevention?” snapped Charlie.
He puts his hand out to take what he’d just asked for from his apprentice, all the while looking into the long scope his right eye was pressed against. But what he was handed was much heavier than it should have been. He turns. Stares at the cup he’s now holding. Eyes wide he exclaims, “I asked for an ounce. This isn’t an ounce!”
Quickly working to remedy his oversight, the once eager apprentice removes an ounce with a measuring spoon. Then hands it back.
“Sorry,” he said, doleful. “I just thought if an ounce was worth a pound of cure, imagine what a whole cup would do.”
Charlie turned after sending the ounce down to its intended recipient. “You don’t do much cooking do you?”
His head dropped forward as he mumbles. “They didn’t send me over here because I could cook. They sent me here because I messed up at the last station.”
Charlie was quick to correct. “They sent you over here to learn and the first thing you need to learn is that you don’t know everything. Because if you knew everything then why would they send you over here.”
In awe he stares. “How’d you learn so much about cooking Charlie? And what’s it mean anyway – an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?”
“Well, technically it means that a little precaution before a crisis occurs is preferable to a lot of fixing up afterward.”
“Oh.” The apprentice nods his head slowly. “Could’ve used that bit of knowledge over in sewing the other day--before I neglected to realize that a stitch in time saves nine. Boy was that embarrassing. Now everybody knows I have little duckies on my –”
Charlie clears his throat loudly. “Ahem, modesty is the best policy.”
The apprentice’s face lights up. “Wow, you are good!”
“Yes, well, I was in fashion once. Never did quite get the hang of it, if you know what I mean.”
A certain smile. Head nodding. “Yes, I know what you mean.” Then, shaking head back and forth. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. But I suppose that’s why they kicked me out of fashion.”
There was no escaping that the apprentice was desperate to find a place where he belonged. And in some small way, Charlie wanted to make him feel better. “Well, we’ll find something for you to do. Not everything is better made from scratch.”
But the adage only stood to make the apprentice feel worse. “Oh, Charlie when will I ever know as much as you? You know, I’ve even prayed about this.”
Charlie seemed surprised. “You haven’t!”
“Yes,” he said, confirmed the revelation. “I have!”
“How do you know God?”
The apprentice slid into deep thought, thumped his forehead with a finger then said. “You know, Charlie, it’s not about how we know God, it’s about how God knows us.”
A slow smile filled Charlie’s face. “You know you’re right! And I think we just found your station.”
Placing a hand on the apprentice’s shoulder he called out through the open door. “Could someone please show this young man to Salvation. I think is insight might be helpful.”
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