The Parable of the Christmas Guy

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, what can the world learn from the way Africa is celebrating Mandela and not mourning him?”

Josh spoke thus:

A sinner was standing before a headstone.

“How many people will attend my funeral?” the sinner asked the headstone.

The sinner looked beyond the headstone at a newly dug grave prepared for a burial.

“Six feet down,” the sinner said to the hole in the ground prepared for burial, “That’s not deep enough.”

The sinner looked at the pile of earth beside the newly dug grave prepared for burial.

“You’re where you oughtn’t to be,” the sinner said to the pile of earth beside the newly dug grave prepared for burial.

The sinner walked away from the grave and onto the city street.  The buildings were close around the the street.  Their windows were dark.  Their bricks were sooty.  The damp from the thickening fog condensed on the iron railings of the cemetery’s perimeter, on the flagstones of the pavement, on the sooty bricks, on the dark trees as skinny as lampposts, on the lampposts as dark as trees.  The sinner passed no one as the sinner moved away from the grave and into the blinding fog.  This wasn’t a fog that glowed with lamplight.  This was a fog that devoured it.

“You’ll be frost, soon enough,” the sinner said to the damp.  The sinner pulled the scarf that hung on the sinner’s shoulders tight around the sinner’s neck in a warming noose.

The darkness sullenly opened upon a child beside an old shirt stuffed with straw.

“Penny for the Guy,” the child said.

“It’s well past November,” the sinner told the child, “It’s much too late for a Guy.”

“I can’t sing carols,” the child said.

The sinner gave the child a penny.

“Where’s the Guy’s head?” the sinner asked the child.

“It was an orange,” the child said, “I was hungry.  I ate it.”

“Where did you get an orange?” the sinner asked the child.

The child held up the penny newly obtained from the sinner.

The sinner gave the child another penny.

“What’s that for?” the child asked the sinner.

“A Guy should never go headless to the gallows,” the sinner said, “And you’ll be hungry again.”

The sinner walked on to the Christmas market.  The sinner approached the grocer’s stall.

“I know a Guy lost his head,” the sinner said to the grocer.  The grocer handed the sinner an orange.

“It’s a bad way to go to the gallows,” the grocer said.