🔵 By Thomas Riffenburg. Photo by lauragrafie.
There once was a man named Clyde. And Clyde believed that his guardian angel came every night in the form of a cat, to drink the milk he placed in a little wooden bowl outside of his door. The little village Clyde lived in always thought him peculiar. Truly he was a simple minded man, though he didn’t know that. He was always happy and in good spirits, regardless of the villages mood, and could always be found in the outdoor marketplace telling people the tales he made up to amuse himself and the villagers. Clyde always tried to make people smile. It was a week before Christmas, and the village was in a good mood, all looking forward with eager anticipation of Christmas morning. Clyde was in an even better mood than usual as well. Clyde began telling the villagers all about his guardian angel coming in the form of a cat to drink the milk he left for it outside his door. The whole village made fun of Clyde for his, and some of the children even threw some rotten carrots at him.
Clyde was depressed at their unbelief, so he went home to his house which stood on the edge of a the village. Even while Clyde was gone the villagers mocked and made fun of him, suggesting that the cat be ambushed and stolen for a while to shut Clyde up. What a laugh they had. The village people went home after a while, but some of the more wicked ones decided that they would in fact kill the stray cat, maybe then Clyde would stop wasting his time on fantasies, and then they would be free from his stories as well. That night they did just as they had planned, and in the morning Clyde found the bowl of milk, and was as sad as a man could be. For days Clyde stayed in his home and checked the milk bowl each morning, and each morning it remained untouched. Clyde began to wonder if God had finally abandoned him, like everyone else had in his life. The village noticed his absence for days and were happy to no longer see happy Clyde about. Clyde became the talk of the village after all had found out what happened, and all were pleased. Christmas Eve came, and that night as the villagers slept, God spoke to all of them in their dreams…
“You evil wicked villagers. I sent the cat to Clyde each night, so that he knew I loved him. You have taken away his sense of love and happiness with your wickedness.”
All the villagers heard this, and all the villagers were frightened, and all the villagers felt sorry for what they had done to poor Clyde. Christmas day came, and Clyde thought that though he was sad, he didn’t want the villagers to be sad because they missed him at the festival, so though he was sad, he went into the village Christmas morning. When he arrived, he heard not the usual sounds of laughter and joy from the opening of presents, he didn’t see the early people setting things aright for the festival, no not at all. The village was very quiet, and not a person was seen. As Clyde looked around, he noticed that everyone had a wooden bowl of milk in front of their door. Clyde wondered at the bowls, then he stared in wonder as hundreds of cats came out of the woods and went to all the bowls of milk. One cat for each bowl. How happy this made Clyde, and how much more happier was he when his own cat came from among the mass to purr against his leg.
The moral of the story? Well I suppose there are many to be found, but I suppose the one the villagers came to realize the most, was that one which shrouds God in mystery. Who can tell the works of Gods within anothers’ life? All should simply be happy for the good happiness of another. Judgment belongs not to us, for who knows if the simplest of perceived gifts comes from God or not? The villagers certainly didn’t, though they learned, and even started a new tradition of leaving milk outside their doors on Christmas Eve night.