Article October 17, 2011 Issue

The celebration

Gloria Beasley Lausten

A bunch of thoughts were sitting around the kitchen table during the party. They weren’t really friends, but sometimes met like this.

Disdain said, “Well, she sure acted coy when they told her how young she looked.”

Snide said, “And she wouldn’t even tell them how old she is!”

Jealousy said, ‘Well, she won’t be able to dance that well next year.”

Gloom said, “Too true. You can’t fool Father Time. Calendars don’t lie.”

At this, Right Reasoning, the one in the white shirt, spoke up: “You all have it wrong. This isn’t a celebration about growing older. It’s about growing newer. I know this gal. We’re best friends. She’s newer today than she was yesterday. In fact, she’s new every morning, and we both know it.* But why are you here? You guys weren’t even invited to the party!”

The first four jumped up and hurried toward the back door, and Gloom, feeling better, smiled as he closed the door behind them.

Right Reasoning stayed around and had another piece of cake!

— Gloria Beasley Lausten,
Sunnyvale, California

*Lamentations 3:22, 23

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