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I needed a box to carry 20 gifts to a meeting that was being held at a local church. The only boxes I had were single malt scotch boxes and as my Episcopal priest mentioned, you can’t put much in such a box other than what they were made for. Then she proceeded to search the room with her eyes for where the contents of such a box might be. Finding the contents she then, I believe, made up some old English ritual to support her cause and efforts.
I still needed a box for the 20 gifts for the pending meeting so I enlisted my non-Episcopal neighbor into the search, which meant I popped the boot of her car and got an empty box that had, at one time, contained beer. I knew the box would be there because that’s how all my friends of this particular wing do it.
Now, as an Episcopalian, I am not a wise person on the subject of beers. But, this box must have contained many vials of a good beer because on the side of the box it proclaimed that the beer was actually the king of all beers.
I put the gifts in the box and carried it into the church room where my meeting was to take place. Immediately three women passed out and two burly men swooned.
“You can’t have that in here,” one person said. “Quick, hide it in the kitchen.”
“Why is that?” I inquired.
“It has that word on the box. I’ll just take it and put it in the utility closed and throw coats over it,” the offended person said.
“Really?” I said. “Because it has the word beer on the box?”
“Oh my,” a new participant in the farce said. “Oh my, my, my.”
“Oh,” I said. “But, didn’t you notice that it’s the king of beer and not just some homeless beer that hangs around parks.”
Braver souls grouped together and hysterically giggled in nervous twitching observations looking to see if someone important saw the box.
My Catholic friends howled at the dilemma I created.
I may have made a comment about how tight some of my companions were wound and I may have asked how they functioned in the world around them. Isn’t everything we are exposed to like one big box containing princes, jokers and queens as well as the king of them all?
From it’s hidden position I retrieved the gifts and handed them out to the enjoyment of everyone. For you see, what seemed so bad to many on the outside contained much more that was good on the inside.
I hope to think I am a bit like that.
(Ken Stone is publisher of the Grant County News. He can be reached at 859-824-3343 or by e-mail at email@example.com.)