When a person leaves church with peace in his heart, and better prepared to face whatever life throws at him, the man behind the pulpit did his job; if he did it really well, his message may remain with those who heard it for a lifetime.
Years ago, a minister used an allegory as a point of departure for his sermon about the priceless gift of friendship. The message has remained in my mind ever since. As best I can recall, the allegory he used is as follows.
A mouse peeped out of his hole one day and saw the master of the house open a package containing a mousetrap. Fearing for himself and his fellows, he sought advice from several of his friends in the barnyard.
“There is a mousetrap in the house. What should I do?” he asked his friend the chicken.
“Old buddy, that is no doubt a matter of grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me,” the hen squawked.
Next the mouse consulted the pig. “Friend pig, there is a mousetrap in the house, and I’m afraid.” The pig shrugged and grunted that he had no suggestions, but promised to pray for the mouse’s safety.
Friend cow was even more ambivalent. “No skin off my udders, pal,” she mooed.
Hurt deeply by his friends’ lack of concern for his wellbeing, the mouse plodded homeward to face the danger alone.
Around midnight, a loud, metallic clang awakened the mouse, and he fell even deeper into despair, knowing that a dear friend had met a terrible fate.
He was wrong. When the farmer’s wife hurried down to reset the trap, she discovered, too late, that it had snared a venomous snake by the tail. The angry asp sank his fangs into her leg, and her husband had to rush her to the hospital, where the doctor treated the wound and recommended chicken soup to help control her raging fever. With hatchet in hand, the farmer whacked off the chicken’s head and prepared the soup.
Sadly, the woman’s condition worsened, so a group of friends volunteered to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer slaughtered the pig.
Friends, chicken soup, and pork chops notwithstanding, the woman breathed her last and departed for a better place. In keeping with tradition, folks came from all over to participate in a wake, and the farmer, being the attentive host he was, had to kill the cow to prepare enough food for the mourners. Everyone grieved, but the mouse was saddened most of all: He lost three friends.
The preacher reminded us that we must never shirk the responsibility of friendship, because we are all one … all sharing in the ups and downs of life. He closed by quoting from John Donne’s “No Man Is An Island”:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind;
And therefore never send to know
For whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
Jimmy Reed is an Oxford, Mississippi resident, Ole Miss and Delta State University alumnus, Vietnam Era Army Veteran, former Mississippi Delta cotton farmer and ginner, author, and retired college teacher.
This story is a selection from Jimmy Reed’s latest book, entitled The Jaybird Tales.
Copies, including personalized autographs, can be reserved by notifying the author via email (.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)).
