Deserving

Andrea: I have a bone to pick with you.

World: Excuse me?

Andrea: I said, I have a bone to pick with you?

World: Just a second. (rifles through stacks of files) Ah! OK, here you are. You do? Are you sure?

Andrea: Yes. You've probably noticed that Christmas is coming soon to some parts of the world, and it's a pretty big deal to preschoolers. And you might have in your file that I've recently separated...

World: Yep.

Andrea: So. I just thought you should know that I really, really wanted there to be a pile of presents from Santa under the tree this year.

World: And?

Andrea: And? And don't you think Frances deserves it?

Luke 12:15 Then He said to them, “Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions.” 16 And He told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man was very productive. 17 “And he began reasoning to himself, saying, ‘What shall I do, since I have no place to store my crops?’ 18 “Then he said, ‘This is what I will do: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19 ‘And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; take your ease, eat, drink and be merry.”’ 20 “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?’"

World: (snorts)

Andrea: What?

World: Let me show you your ledger.

Andrea: (in a small voice) Oh. Never mind.

World: Look at the partial list that just covers all the things you have that you can currently see, without turning your head: desktop garbage can, box of kleenex, monitor, telephone, keyboard, hand lotion, two mugs--TWO MUGS! You never drink coffee!, a can of diet coke, box of paperclips, stacks of paper, TWO hardbacked notebooks, fifteen pictures of your daughter...

Andrea: I see your point.

World: Fifteen! How many versions of her face do you need to reflect on, exactly, in the course of a nine-hour workday? OK, she's cute, but...

Andrea: She is very cute.

World: And do you see the stacks of impossibly thin, one-sheet files over there? The millions and millions of them? Care to guess how many of them are for kids who won't be eating this Christmas?

Andrea: All right. I get it.

World: Deserves! What's wrong with you westerners? How could any of you possibly look around and think that you don't already have much more than you could ever deserve? With the exception of a few of you who truly don't have enough, but the whole North American concept of enough is another problem....

Andrea: I said all right! Never mind. We can drop the whole business. Frances will get the yellow duckie under the tree that she asked Santa for, and maybe one or two other things because I really really really want to give her things.

World: Want. Yes. That's the crux of it. But not so fast, I'm afraid. There is still the matter of your outstanding account.

Andrea: My what? Excuse me?

World: Right here. See?

Andrea: Oh. Oh my.

Luke 12:42 And the Lord said, “Who then is the faithful and sensible steward, whom his master will put in charge of his servants, to give them their rations at the proper time? 43 “Blessed is that slave whom his master finds so doing when he comes. 44 “Truly I say to you that he will put him in charge of all his possessions. 45 “But if that slave says in his heart, ‘My master will be a long time in coming,’ and begins to beat the slaves, both men and women, and to eat and drink and get drunk; 46 the master of that slave will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he does not know, and will cut him in pieces, and assign him a place with the unbelievers. 47 “And that slave who knew his master’s will and did not get ready or act in accord with his will, will receive many lashes, 48 but the one who did not know it, and committed deeds worthy of a flogging, will receive but few. From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and to whom they entrusted much, of him they will ask all the more.

World: Yes. And what are you going to do about it?

Andrea: There's no way I can possibly pay all that back.

World: Tough nuts, I'm afraid. We have certain expectations for those of you who are truly blessed, and there are no opt-out clauses. Fortunately we have a few generous payment plans.

Andrea: But I already work full-time as an environmentalist...

World: Yes. And you'll see that's already been applied towards your debt.

Andrea: ...and I already donate five per cent of my income to different groups...

World: Five per cent. How much does it impress you when someone like Bill Gates gives five per cent of their income to some grand cause?

Andrea: (small voice) Not a whole lot.

World: You are a lot closer to the Bill Gates's of the world than the refugees and sweatshop workers. See that kid over there? He's asked for a soccer ball for Christmas, every year for the past five years.

Andrea: Maybe I could do six.

World: I don't understand. So many people just come up and pick my pocket--can you believe it?--thinking I owe them more, they deserve more, and they've got one of these fat files, like you have. Why isn't anyone ever satisfied?

Andrea: I'm sorry.

World. Yeah, well don't you worry. They get theirs. When they die we sic the extra-nasty worms on their corpses.

Andrea: (pause) That doesn't sound all that bad, actually, after a lifetime of privilege and wealth. They can't even feel it.

World: I know, we're working on it. Look, if you want to make serious progress on your debt, you know what you can do? You can work on that kid of yours. All she wants is a little yellow duckie, so just give her that little yellow duckie. Make Christmas about all the other stuff--the baking and cooking and songs. The parts all you crazy people get all sentimental about. Do you remember what you got for Christmas when you were growing up?

Andrea: Noooooo.

World: But you remember the daisybraid and the gingerbread trees, don't you? And the year your dog ate all the christmas cookie ornaments off the bottom of the tree? Singing alternative lyrics to Jingle Bells at the school pageants? The handmade felt stocking with your name on it in glitter? All the paper chain ornaments hanging on the family tree? Give Frances the stuff she'll remember.

Andrea: Good point.

World: And teach her how lucky she is, you know? Teach her how much closer she is to the top than the bottom. Maybe she won't rack up her debt quite so fast that way. Help her start paying it back now. She's got a good heart, I think it'll stick. And she's already got a pretty fat file. Besides, where would you even put new toys?

Andrea: (sighs)

World: In the meantime, I'm sure you could be doing more.

Andrea: I could. You're right. I will.

World: Make sure that you do. That might knock a portion of a per cent off of your accumulated total. And if you really, really wanted to impress me....

Andrea: Don't say it. I know what you're going to say, and just don't.

World: ...then cut down on the book purchases. You already have enough to get you through the next six months...

Andrea: I knew it. I knew that's what you were going to say.

World: ...and there is a library across the street...

Andrea: Yeah, I know.

World: ...do you know how lucky you are to even have a library, period?

Andrea: OK. Fine. Shut up.

World: So?

Andrea: I'll think about it.

~~~~~

Normally, when someone asks a girl when she's going to have a baby, the questioner is risking a broken nose, a missing tooth, or at least a clenched-jaw grin with a nominally-polite "fuck you" disguised as a "not yet." The response one normally does not get is, "What a great idea! I'm going to go home and get started right away!"

So you can imagine my surprise. What you probably can't imagine is how happy I was.

Unlike a real-life labour, this time, the more hours the better. But it's not a contest. If all you can see for you next year is an afternoon free to stuff envelopes, then put your three hours into the ring and be happy that it's three hours more than you otherwise would have done. Not everybody needs to bring a stroller to the baby shower--booties and rattles and bottles are valuable and needed, too.

Meanwhile, not all of you have blogs of your own, I know. So for those of you who don't, I'll put the comments and emails into a separate post, so they're all collected somewhere. Look for it early in the new year.

Posted by Andrea at December 17, 2007 10:32 AM under Fiction , Friends and Others , The World

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