On Thursday

It was on the Thursday

that he became valuable.

He hadn’t anything to sell…

not since leaving his hammer and saw

three years earlier.

Needless to say,

he could knock together a set of trestles

or hang a couple of shelves at the drop of a hat,

no bother at all.

But he wasn’t into making things,

Not now.

He was into…

well…talking, I suppose,

and listening

and healing

and forgiving

and encouraging…

all the things for which there’s no pay

and the job center has no advertisements.

So his work wasn’t worth much.

Nor, indeed, was he.

For, not being well-dressed

or well-heeled or well-connected,

he wouldn’t have attracted many ticket holders

had he been put up for raffle.

But he had a novelty value…

like the elephant man or the fat lady

or the little person at the circus.

Put him on a stage and he might be interesting to look

at.

Sell him to the circus

with the promise of some tricks

and there could be a silver penny or two

or thirty in it.

It was on the Thursday

that he became valuable.

From: Stages on the Way, Iona Community Wild Goose Resource Group