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  There Once Was An Old Woman

There once was an old woman who lived up north. She never could submit herself to the binding qualities of marriage and was now senile and barren. She had a desire for children but she was not a mother, nor could she ever be. She somehow skirted the laws banning senile, old women from childcare and managed to open a day care in her community. She ingeniously lured the parents of many children to place their young ones under her care and nourishment with promises of a safe and balanced child training accompanied by safe and nutritious meals from her kitchen-problem was she couldn't cook. According to her own logic, it could be said that she truly tried to love the children and attempted to mother them better then they had ever been mothered, but she was not a mother.

All went well until one day a child was running through the house, fell, and banged his head against the coffee table. The little old woman was thrown into a panic and she promptly threw out the coffee table and tied small tethers, loosely bound, around the children's ankles to keep them from running.

This strategy worked for about half an hour when a loosely hobbled little girl ran through the family room, tripped on her tether and smacked her head on the hard hearth of the fireplace. The little old lady was so upset with herself and the little girl that she tightened all of the children's tethers and ordered for a shipment of industrial strength padding to be delivered and installed around the fireplace to prevent any further damage to the children.

Later that afternoon two of the little boys were wrestling on the ground. Joey had Tommy on his back and was in the process of finalizing the pin when Tommy mustered a sudden burst of strength, extended his arms and legs, spinning Joey around and propelling him through the air and into the living room window. Joey's hands were cut and bleeding, and as soon as he was bandaged, all of the children were scolded and had their hands gently cuffed together for their own protection. In addition more of the padding was installed over the windows and while the lack of sunlight and fresh air was inconvenient, it was a small price to pay for the safety of the children and the testimony of the little day care in the community.

Things were no different in the kitchen. The old woman labored to make meals that would satisfy every child but in the end they satisfied no one as they were all bland and flavorless. The food was never hot nor cold, but always short of just right. She called it "old fashioned home cooking" but it was really just an assortment of "just add water" instant meals, diluted and strained to take out any hint of spice or flavor. She once ordered out, but one of the children had an allergic reaction and that was the end of that. She couldn't cook but she didn't know it, and the children didn't know it, but they should have.

Months went by and children were children. New and ingenious ways to get hurt, bruise, mess and break were devised and with each passing day more and more restrictions were added and more and more padding was installed until the children could barely move and even if they could it would have been of no use for every hard surface and every edge in the house had been covered with the protective padding. In this safe and protected environment surely the children would grow strong, much like plants in a greenhouse.

Over the years the children grew, but only in a strange way. The lack of nourishment from the old lady's kitchen and the dearth of exercise and creativity had stifled the children's development in alarming ways. They were incapable of independent thought and action. Every decision was run through the old lady and they loved her or hated her-it was hard to tell the difference with these children.

Eventually the time came when the children were to be let out into the world. They were unfettered, the door was opened and they were left dazed by natural light streaming through the door way. A third of the children seized their opportunity for freedom and dashed through the door, into the open lawn and out into the street where they were promptly hit by a garbage truck.

A third of the children seeing the tragedy of freedom that the first group experienced quickly saw the wisdom of the old lady and retreated back into the house, where they attempted to refasten the tethers that had once held them so lovingly. They made a pact to be loyal to the old lady and to never face the danger of freedom again.

The last third of the children cautiously made their way out into the yard. They could barely remember their infant years when they had enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine upon their faces, or the throbbing of their chests after a vigorous fight, or the smell of fresh cookies wafting out of a neighbor's window. These brave little ones wandered the neighborhood, frightened by everything, trusting of no one, but sensing that there was something or someone to be trusted.

Just before sundown a beautiful woman, mature, with streaks of gray interspersed with her dark chestnut hair, found this motley little band on the sidewalk outside her door. She had slight wrinkles around her eyes and lips, but those eyes were kind and dark. She smiled gently when she talked and the children knew that she was a mother-they had longed for a mother. She was someone they could trust. She urged the children to come inside and the smells that came from her kitchen shattered all their inhibitions. It was almost as if she'd been expecting them. The children feasted and drank their fill, and after dinner was over, the kindly mother told them of her husband who was gone on a long journey but who would be back any day now. This man would love them and make them his own.

They stayed with the mother and waited for the father, and as she nourished them with her cooking, they grew to love and trust and live under her love and example. Her house was filled with running, jumping, and laughter. Many were the times when one member of the group would bang a head, or break a leg or maybe even a heart, but every time the mother was there to bandage the hurt and to comfort the children with stories of the father. And with every hurt, new wisdom was gained. And the children grew stronger and stronger until the father finally returned and took them to their new home where they all lived happily ever after.

- Unknown

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