The Old Woman's Tale.

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The Old Woman’s Tale.

A Fable.
(Inspired by a close friend).

by Angharad.

She was led through sunlit gardens to a huge mansion, by a being whose countenance could only be described as blissful, not a line on his or her face — the being was of indeterminate sex.

Something that had struck her from the beginning was the light, it was so bright, yet there was no glare, and it warmed rather than burned you like normal sun.

The mansion was sparkling, it was the only word to describe it, made of polished white marble with large windows and wide driveway. Beyond it she could see what looked like a huge vertical structure, but the house obscured its definition.

The gardens seemed to go on for some distance, and were perfectly kept, groomed with loving care, that much was obvious, and birds and insects abounded, no chemicals were used here.

They walked up the drive and then up the steps into the house. The place was buzzing, there were dozens of people there. It was easy to define the staff, they all wore white, those being processed such as the old woman, were in assorted shades of grey, from nearly white to charcoal. Her own was nearer the latter.

Her guide bid her sit and wait until she was called, then left. He or she, didn’t say anything, it seemed to be more a mind thing, but the old woman understood, and thanked her guide who nodded acknowledgement. When she sat down, she noticed a thin pale stripe near the bottom of her robe. “Didn’t see that before,” she said to herself.

She sat and watched the people come and go, her appointment seemed to be taking an eternity, but then, that was no problem, she had nowhere to rush off to.

There seemed to be all colours and creeds of people coming and going. An obviously Islamic woman came and sat next to her, wearing a scarf around her head. The old woman felt uncomfortable and moved up a seat, leaving a space between them. Then glancing at her robe, she noticed there was no pale stripe, so it must have been a trick of the light, if anything her robe seemed darker.

Eventually she was called, and another of those indeterminate beings led her to a door, knocked and was bid enter. It was a huge room, with large floor to ceiling windows. On the white marble floors were scattered thick fleecy rugs and in the centre before a huge desk, was an ornate sculpted rug with delicious abstract patterns which almost sprang to life.

Sitting behind the desk was a small, Negro woman. She rose from her chair and walked around the desk to shake hands with the old woman, and to the elderly visitors horror, she was not only black but was some sort of dwarf, standing no taller than four foot. The old woman towered over her at five foot one inch.

The black dwarf held out her hand and the old woman, with great reluctance took the hand and shook it twice, her skin crawling from the dwarf’s touch.

“Elsie Bagworm, that is you?” said the dwarf sitting in her seat again.

“Yes,” replied the old woman, noticing the dwarf had a step stool to get back to her chair.

“Please do sit,” said the dwarf opening a large file.

Elsie sat and stared at her robe, it seemed even darker. She stared at the golden robe of the ‘darkie’ who sat opposite her, that shone in the wonderful light which perfused the window.

The small dark woman, continued scanning the file, “Sorry this taking so long, but there is quite a lot here. I’ll be ready to start the interview in a moment.”

“Interview?” gasped Elsie.

“Yes, all candidates for entrance have to be interviewed. Didn’t you realise this?”

“No I didn’t, I assumed that….”

“We try and dissuade our applicants from making assumptions, they can be rather misleading.” This was said with an almost perfunctory manner, which made Elsie feel a little angry. She looked down at her robe again, there was a thin red stripe now around the hem. It consumed her interest for several seconds.

“Right are we ready to start then?” asked the small black interviewer.

“I see you are seventy nine?”

“Yes.”

“Were married but your husband passed over twenty years ago?”

“Yes, I was hopin…..”

“Can we stick with the interview criteria please?” asked the interviewer.

Elsie glanced down at her robe, the red strip was thicker, the robe darker. It fascinated her.

“You lived in the same house for fifty five years?”

“Yes, but the neighbourhood had run down, full of bloody Asians and dark…. and gays.”

“You have a problem with different races?”

“No of course not, as long as they keep themselves clean and eat proper food and speak the Queen’s English, which half them Indians can’t do. And as for them gays, it makes me sick… doesn’t it you?”

Elsie noticed the darker robe and the widening red stripe. It was amazing, seemed to grow by itself.

“No it doesn’t,” offered the little dark lady.

“Doesn’t what?” asked Elsie absent mindedly, absorbed watching the robe change.

“Doesn’t make me sick, the diversity of humanity.”

“Oh,” said Elsie.

“I see you were a regular churchgoer.”

“Yes, a Baptist chapel, didn’t get on with them C of E types, gay priests and women bishops whatever next?”

Elsie paused for a moment, “Do you have Baptist chapels here?”

“Not really, no call for them,” answered the small interviewer. “Now, your family, you had a boy and a girl.”

“Yes good kids, tried to bring ‘em up proper too, none of this sparing the rod business.”

“So I see, “ agreed the small black lady, “and five grandchildren, three girls and two boys.”

“Nah that’s wrong,” challenged Elsie.

“Mrs Bagworm, I assure you our information is always correct.”

“No it isn’t, I have three boys and two girls grandkids. Well two of each and that little pervert.”

“It says here that your grandchildren are, Lucy, Jillian, Petra , John and Darren.”

“Petra, the pervert, that should be Peter, he was born Peter and he can bloody die Peter.”

“Is that why you stripped her out of your will?” asked the interviewer.

“Bloody right, sex change operation, silly little queer — how can that ever be a woman, I ask you?”

“From the picture we have, she looks very attractive and is happily married.”

“Bloody nancy-boy, and that creep he lives with, the arse bandit.”

“Do you not think you are being just a little judgemental here?”

“Not at all, why should I accept queers?”

“According to the information we have, all forms of human expression are equal in the eyes of God. They are also probably largely genetically influenced, but we don’t do the science here, just the human side of how people cope and act.”

“I don’t have to accept it,” Elsie huffed, and noticed the robe was now nearly black and the stripe had been joined by another around her waist.

“I have to caution you about using the term acceptance.” Said the interviewer.

Bah! Thought Elsie.

“According to this, your passing was in a shopping centre, a heart attack brought on by shouting at someone begging.”

“I don’t remember,” said Elsie.

“We have it here in detail. The black paramedic who responded tried CPR and defibrillation, but in vain.”

“What’s that? CP whatever?”

“Cardio pulmonary resuscitation, the kiss of life they used to call it,” said the interviewer smiling.

“What some black bast….erm, bloke kissed me!” Gasped Elsie, no wonder I died, shock I expect. I’m going to complain.”

“So you don’t accept someone’s efforts to help you?”

“Accept that, no chance,” declared Elsie.

“I’m afraid, we have to say the same. There is no chance of our acceptance of you as a candidate at this time, you may reapply when you have considered your life for a bit longer.”

“What? Who the hell are you to tell me what I can or cannot do?” said Elsie loudly and aggressively.

“I’m afraid this interview is at an end.”

“Don’t you mess with me short-arse! I demand to see St Peter.”

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“Why not, he’s supposed to be outside the pearly gates to let me in?”

“He’s much too busy to see you, these days his team deal with those who have been damaged by people like you.”

“I never hurt no one?” said Elsie feeling a hurt indignation.

“Didn’t you? What about all the times you said dreadful things to others which were completely unjustified, the way you treated your granddaughter Petra, who you’ll be pleased to know was given a share of your estate by the other grand children. Even the way you died, ranting and raving at someone who was worse off than you.”

“He annoyed me?”

He said nothing, he merely held up a card which said, ‘Hungry and Homeless’.”

“They’re all liars.”

“No he wasn’t, he was one of our researchers doing an undercover job, and he was hungry and homeless. He’s back here now, shocked by your behaviour.”

“Oh!” Elsie paused for a moment, “Serves him right, probably queer or a junky.”

The interviewer shook her head, “Someone will be along in a moment to show you where to go.”

“Dunno if I’ll go with them,” declared Elsie.

“Oh you will, they have Baptist chapels and they play bingo every afternoon.”

==============================================================

Not my usual stuff, see what ya think? Sorry don't do subtlety. Comments to the usual place.

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Comments

Subtle?

kristina l s's picture

Well, not so subtle maybe. That's a new twist on a coat of many colours. Had me smiling and shaking my head at the same time... Makes reading tricky. Nice little parable for the clueless.

Kristina

Heaven

I'm not sure I believe in an afterlife, or if there's a great sorting, or in reincarnation, heaven, hell, or God, for that matter. I'd rather believe that this is the only chance we get to be good or bad, to grow, to love, to help or hurt, and to find our own spiritual center and quiet our monkey minds (as the meditators say).

But, if there is all that, I do pray that it's just as you depict, with an especially nasty circle of Hell reserved for hypocrites and the intolerant.

careful

Angharad's picture

that could be verging on intolerant!

If there is a heaven or hell, I suspect it will be of our own making. As in the story. As a liberal I tolerate everyone exept intolerants... hang on as a liberal, I tolerate... oh forget it, I'm a fundamentalist liberal - sort that out! 8)

Angharad

Angharad

Clueless

This had some interesting stuff. I really enjoyed the color changing robe. What made it so nice was Elsie was just as clueless about it meant as she was in life. She refused to see the harm she caused to others. Nice Fable Angharad.
hugs!
grover

Thanks Grover,

Angharad's picture

As the Queen of morality tales, your opinion is most welcome.

hugs,

Angharad

Angharad

I suppose if I had to choose ...

... between fire and brimstone and Baptist Chapels with Bingo every afternoon, I'd have a problem. I have grave doubts about any sort of afterlife but the idea of an interview quite appeals. Perhaps Hell really is an infinite and ultimately boring Heaven, and Heaven is oblivion.

We shouldn't condemn the old bigot too much though. She's as much a victim of her background as the objects of her derision. How's that for a wet, sitting on the fence, liberal?

Nicely done, Angharad

Geoff

Rather Insightful


We shouldn't condemn the old bigot too much though. She's as much a victim of her background as the objects of her derision. How's that for a wet, sitting on the fence, liberal?

I suppose the worst hypocrites of all are the ones who use the bible as a weapon or a tool to obtain and hold power. In the case of Elsie, she is very much the victim of such people. She was never taught to find God herself, or the little bits in the bible about hospitality to strangers, and humility, and leaving judgement of others up to God. Or, that God made everyone in His (or possessive pronoun of your choice) image. If you manage to believe that, you should have a much greater respect for other people.

Instead, she was taught phrases and dogma that serve the interest of a closed community. She was taught a simple idolatry of the idea of Jesus and the Bible and not the general message. She was taught that she was automatically "saved" by ritual and the hierarchy of her house of worship and not that she needed to work at becoming a decent person on her own.

Okay, I'll stop here, before I start ranting in earnest. There is so much you could say about life and sex and civility and governance and the role of religion and various people's ideas on these subjects.

Quite to the point

Sadly, I've met more than a few close minded bigoted people like that.

That said,I've know more than one or two Baptists who were loving and caring individuals who had time for everyone, irrespective of race or sexual orientation. (I guess some would call them the exceptions that proove the rule.)

I'm not sure I like the ending. The feeling I get there is that she's going somewhere where she'll find more people with feelings/approaches to life that are similar to hers. Where will she get the opportunity to examine her past actions, and hopefully eventually recognize the errors in her ways?

Thanks for a thought provoking story... It perhaps needs wider dissemination.

Phrances

This reminds me of another story.. LOL

NoraAdrienne's picture

An awful lot of years ago.. I heard a joke told by one of the Rabbinacle students I knew.. A pious old man died and went to Heaven.. He is guided around what appears to be a long corridor with rooms on both sides..

Each of them has a sign on the doors.. Baptist, C of E, R.C., Conservatice Jews, Reform Jews, Orthodox Jews..

As they pass the next door the man is told to be very quiet.. He politely asks why, and the reply is.. That is where the Satmar Jews are.. they think they are the only ones here..

Or the one about the Old Satmar Grand Rebbe (circa 1977) Well he went up to Heaven and was greeted most profusely by St. Peter (I have no idea why a Saint was greeting him). The Rebbe was told that a large feast was being prepared for his arrival and that he was the guest of honor.. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses and many others were there to honor his life and achievements..

The Rebbe thought for a moment and asked.. "who's supervising the Kashrut (Kosherness)of the food?". The reply was a simple one.. G-d is of course..

The Rebbe replied.. "I'll have the fish!"

Angharad I love your stories.. Keep up the great work.

Bright Blessing on all for a Healthy New Year

I'm more of a Swedenborgian, but...

There is a parable in the Bible along the lines of this story, "if you did it to the least of my brothers, you did it also to me"...

... of course, the details were different.

Nice story.

Your Tolerance

marie c.

Angharad. My God I'm slow! I'm the 11th to respond to your story. And every one preceding mine saying what I would have done ten times better. I'm still waiting to see a bound collection of yours reach the best seller list.

marie c.

re: The Old Womans Tale

An interesting tale, but shouldn't there also be tolerance of the intolerant?

Hugs

Karen

the paradox of tolerance

laika's picture

Neat little fable, good and preachy! Kinda reminded me of C.S. Lewis' THE GREAT DIVORCE,
where everybody made their own hell...

Karen: Hi. I wonder what tolerating the intolerant entails. The mechanics of it, I mean.
If it's letting them have their say, I agree. Freedom of opinion & speech are damn near sacred to me.
And besides, I want to know who a person is up front, not have their mouths muzzled by p.c. convention while their heart festers with hatred. As a coward, this helps me decide who I'm going to be candid with about me...

But is it "intolerance-of-the-intolerant" to tell them you think they're full of shit? Bigots sure act like they think so. Am I supposed stand mute while they tell nigger and faggot (etc) jokes?

And if it gets down to where every conversation turns into a drag of an argument, is it intolerant of me to choose to not associate with them? I do associate with the ones who aren't so politicized about it, aren't just ugly in the intensity of their hatred (just as I wouldn't hang around with a LIBERAL who talked like the Unibomber, or even made sweeping generalizations about "the evil bloodsucking capitalists" all the time. Too negative...). But bigots are never my best friends, due to my limits in relating to and understanding them, and maybe a certain amount of fear on my part. The intolerant kind of put up a wall around themselves. They're telling you they are only willing to be familiar on their terms, with those
they deem worthy, so they make it kind of hard...

~~~I hope I said what all I meant to say here. Great story Angharad! LAIKA

Thanks Geoff,

Angharad's picture

Reminds me why I will never ever vote Tory again. Incitement to kill is an offence, I hope he gets prosecuted.

Grrrrrrrrrr!

Angharad

Angharad

Irresponsible

Extremists on every side are intolerable, liberal or conservative. In spite of the urging of my sis, I find no joy in riding a bicycle, not to mention the terror inflicted by uncaring motorists. And I've met more than a few rude and inconsiderate cyclists.

Mathew Parris, Don Imus, Al Sharpton, all the various left wing and right wing idiots with their wild views, sadly there is a market for these types or they wouldn't get the publicity they do. And where does it come from? Look in the mirror. As the Pogo comic strip character said those many years ago, we have met the enemy and he is us.

Karen J.

Down with ego photo sigs!


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

All the subtlety of a sledge hammer

But parables and fables often are over the top. In putting a funhouse mirror to the real World, a kernel of truth may be revealed.

An earlier commenter may have hit on it, we make our own hell.

I wonder if in this afterlife it's like all the brakes on us not saying our minds are turned off and the poor old lady can't help but pour out her vitrol.

Neat how the clothes act like one of those old liquid crystal mood rings from the 70's. There may be hope for her yet if she can see the signs but she is so clueless that she is digging her self in deeper.

I sure hope the person who inspired this was not like the old lady.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

The Golden Rule

That's what it's all about isn't it? I'm not religious at all, but I don't have anything against religious people unless they are obnoxious about it. Don't know if you meant to single out the C of E for punishment. I almost feel sorry for them: I've never seen a church as castrated as that one; I doubt those prejudicial things are what they say they stand for; and there are far worse targets. If Archbishop Rowan Williams became PM tomorrow, as PC as he is, I don't thing the UK would change very much at all.

When I read your story, I wondered if the old woman had truly learned her prejudices from the church, or if she had been simply someone who preferred to think the worst of her fellow human beings because it made her feel superior. Such is the nature of humanity, common to all cultures (some more than others), all races, and to the religious and non-religious. In fact, a case could be made that Communists, official atheists but people who held an ideology so dear it may as well have been a religion, and one utterly intolerant of those not sharing its belief, have killed more people than any other religion in the world.

Intolerance and prejudice will likely always be with us in some form or another. The answer to it, I feel, is equal application of the laws and free speech. There's a little bit of whose ox is being gored going around, but true bigotry can't survive in the daylight of a truly free society, only underground.

Aardvark

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."

Mahatma Gandhi

"Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."

Mahatma Gandhi

[Sigh!!]

You have condemned the "Old Woman" for being judgemental but it seemed to me that your characterization of her and speech(es) to her by the interviewer were just as judgemental, eh?

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

x

Yours from the Great White North,

Jenny Grier (Mrs.)

I think you know what we think !

But, since you asked...

Someone very smart once said "The trouble with christianity is that it has christians in it." I think it was Gandhi who said that. In my own experience he was damned right, and I wish it had been me that said it first.

Of course, being an Atheist I realise that there is no "life after death" and that we make our own hell or heaven on this world in this life, and sadly, with the help of all the Believers in this or that god, we are not doing to well at it, are we?

My Granny - who was also an atheist, was a very kind lady indeed, who spent all her time helping others and doing Good Works. She used to tell me that we had to do that to prove to the believers that being good and kind did not need any god. She used to say "weak people invented a god to try to make them be better".

Briar

Briar

I am sad....

Andrea Lena's picture

...it breaks my heart to read such remarks about Christianity in light of this story and the personal views and experiences expressed by the accompanying comments. I don't mind that some differ with my world view; we all have our own lives to lead, and the freedom, especially in this country, despite some beliefs to the contrary, to express ourselves however we choose. What hurts is that somehow, I and others who hold our faith close to our hearts, have failed to convey the love of Christ to others, and that is much sadder than I could feel about what is said. Not convincing others of the validity of Whom I trust is not my responsibility, but convincing others through our action and words that our faith is invalid is a sad thing indeed, for it flies in the face of what Christ should be about in how we who believe have led our lives. I am not sorry for presenting my faith, albeit with reservation and in vague terms, as a part of my characters' world views and life, but I apologize from the bottom of my heart, if I have said anything, either by my own words or by the expressions of my stories that have offended anyone.

She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Tutto il mio apprezzamento, cari, Andrea

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

What do you mean?

NoraAdrienne's picture

NOT YOUR USUAL STUFF ???? This was so tongue in cheek I bit my tongue laughing. I've said for years that organized religions should be banned. Or at least heavily watched over. In my own case, the longer my hair got or the more often I changed it's color,our Rabbi would give speeches about how the world is being ruined by those who live the "alternate" life style.

Keep not writing your usual stuff... You make very valid points in doing so.

Bright Blessings

Good tale

Poor Elsie, digging herself in deeper and deeper, with absolutely no clue as to what she is doing. . .

Here in the Midwest USA there are way too many groups which use scripture to press their political agenda. . . I tend to think of 'em as "evilgelicals."

Lately there have been a number of churches, some of which are quite large, which have started declaring their female members as sinners to be shunned if they are caught wearing trousers, never mind engaging in non-subservient roles.

Wonderfully Insightful

littlerocksilver's picture

Dear 'Drea,

Your story was wonderful, and I'm sorry I missed it three years ago. It is an excellent parable. It is full of so much about what is wrong with society. I am so happy I found it in the random stories area.

Sadly, I was raised as a bigot. I got it from both parents sides. After leaving home some 45 years ago, I have made many adjustments, especially over the last 30 years. It's been a slow and agonizing process, but some of the knee jerk reactions still surface at the most inopportune moments - open mouth, insert foot. I'll go to my grave fighting what I know is wrong. I think it is an incurable disease. I will get better, but I will never get over it.

I am not an atheist. The word is a contradiction and is only meaningful to believers. To say I don't believe in a deity is to acknowledge it exists, I just don't accept what is not incontrovertably obvious. I have few beliefs: too many beliefs tend to obsfute reality.

Portia

Portia

The Old Woman's Tale.

Careful with your attitude, it can hurt you in the end.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Could be any of us...

Rhona McCloud's picture

We all need examples of what not to do but in real life the haters are much more seductive and dangerous than Elsie Bagworm tempting us to follow their example

Rhona McCloud

nice one

Dawnfyre's picture

I have met a few people like the old woman.

as far as heaven and hell go, I would rather go to hell, the people there would be a lot more fun to be around. ;)


Stupidity is a capital offense. A summary not indictable.

Wow!

Good parable. Made me think. Thank you.

>>> Kay