Encouragement

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Let Us
make man
in
Our image.
[Genesis 1:26]
******************
"Why didn't You
bless me
with it,
Lord."

[PATIENT VOICE.]
"With
what,
Mein kin'der."

(Look up.)
"The SPORTS-Gene."

[NOD.]
"Ah."

"Yeah;
my life
would'a
been a
whole lot
BETTER."

[CALM VOICE.]
"Better
than what,
Mein kin'der."

(Shrug.)
"Dunno."
(Shrug.)
"Just.....
Ya know:
BETTER.
Men love
sports,
and
hate CATS."
(Stare accusingly
up at the ceiling.)
(Wave plump hand
toward the ceiling.)
"YOU gave me
the OPPOSITE
GENE."

[PATIENT SIGH.]
[BECKON AN ANGEL
INTO THE THRONE
ROOM. THE ANGEL
IS CARRYING A
MESSAGE-PLATTER.
THE PLATTER IS PURE
GOLD, AND VERY HEAVY.
THE ANGEL,
NOT OF THE ATHLETIC
SORT, IS OBVIOUSLY
HAVING TROUBLE
WITH IT.]

(Mumbling.)
"Yeah,
and all a'
my FRIENDS
and
COWORKERS....
they just know
how to TALK
about all
that stuff:
like, it's some
sort'a..
secret, magnetic
CODE."

[SYMPATHETIC NOD.]
[PATIENT SIGH:
PATIENTLY WATCHING
THE PLUMP, OUT-OF-SHAPE
ANGEL TRYING TO
BALANCE THE REALLY
HEAVY GOLDEN PLATTER,
WHILE WALKING BARE-TOED
ON THE SLIPPERY
GOLD-TILED THRONE
ROOM FLOOR.]

(Sigh.)
"I've never understood
that stuff: no matter
how much I tried....
or WHO,
I was with."
(Look back up at the
ceiling.)
"I look at one a'
those games,
and it's like starin'
at a piece a' CARDBOARD,
to me."

[NOD.]
"Yes,
My child."
[PATIENT SIGH:
THE ANGEL, WHOSE
NAME IS PLOTZ*,
DROPS THE PLATTER.]

(Shout.)
"Cardboard,
LORD!
IT'S LIKE STARIN'
AT CARDBOARD!"

[NOD.]
[PATIENT VOICE.]
"Yes,
My child."

(Point to the ceiling,
several times.)
"AND,
IT'S ALL
YOUR FAULT!"

[NOD.]
[SIGH.]
[WAIT, PATIENTLY,
WHILE PLOTZ CHASES
AFTER THE CLATTERING,
LOUDLY BANGING,
AND
ROLLING PLATTER.]
[THE MESSAGE,
WRITTEN ON A
GOLDEN SCROLL OF
PAPYRUS,
IS NOWHERE TO BE
SEEN.]

"WHY DIDN'T
YOU GIVE ME
THE SPORTS-GENE?
MY WHOLE LIFE,
IT'S BEEN A MYSTERY!
AND, A BORING ONE
AT THAT!"

"I understand,
Mein kin'der."
[BECKON,
ONCE MORE,
TO THE ANGEL
WHO HAS NOW
RETRIEVED THE
WAYWARD PLATTER,
BUT IS SHAKING
HIS CURLY HEAD,
WOEFULLY,
BECAUSE HE STILL
HASN'T FOUND THE
MESSAGE SCROLL.]

(Holding, and
waving palms up to
the ceiling.)
"You COULD
have given me,
THAT,
LORD!
You didn't give
me any
LOOKS,
or GENIUS,
or athletic PROWESS!
Or, ANY SAVVY!
YA could'a LEAST
given me THAT!"

[NODDING.]
[POINT, PATIENTLY,
TOWARD A SPOT UNDER THE
GOLD BENCH BY THE
FLOWING RIVER BESIDE THE TWO
THRONES.]
[PLOTZ,
NOW SWEATY WITH EXERTION,
SQUINTS CLUELESSLY,
AND THEN SQUINTS
OVER AT THE GOLD
BENCH BESIDE THE
FLOWING RIVER OF
LIFE; GRABBING HIS
LONG GOWN, PLOTZ
GETS DOWN ON HIS
PLUMP BARE KNEES
AND CRAWLS
UNDER THE BIG GOLD
BENCH. HE BUMPS
HIS HEAD, AND
REACHES FOR THE
PAPYRUS SCROLL; THE
SCROLL ROLLS OVER
AND FALLS INTO THE
RIVER.]

(Yell to the ceiling.)
"CARDBOARD,
LORD!
IT'S ALL
CARDBOARD!"

[WAIT PATIENTLY,
WHILE PLOTZ NOW
PLOPS SPLASHING
INTO THE COLD WATER,
WAVING HIS ARMS AROUND,
TRYING TO GRAB THE SOAKED
SCROLL. PLOTZ'S
WINGS, WHICH HAVEN'T
SEEN A MOMENT OF AIR-BOURNE
FLIGHT-TIME, SINCE THE
MOMENT THEY WERE CREATED,
ARE FLOATING CLUMSILY
ABOUT IN THE
SPLASHING WATER.]
[SIGH.]
"As long as,
My child...
you don't see
Me
that
way."
********************
So
God
created
man
in His
own
image....
And..
blessed
them.
[Genesis 1:27-28]

_________________
*Yiddish: 'faint, but
not in a graceful way';
'swoon, clumsily';
'drop dead from shock'.

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