This is a fictional story, made up by Jesus to illustrate a point.
The son and his father (a self-made man) were adding up the numbers, and son made a meal of it.
Father said ‘It’s quite a large amount, so I’ve made it a round dozen.’
‘You’ve made my day!’ The boy had it made.
Very soon he was off. He made for Dissipation City and made the most of the opportunity. He made hay, made friends and made his bed and lay on it; he was made for enjoying himself; new friends April, June and May danced flirtaciously; he also made whoopee. He gambled and at first made a bundle, but in the end made a hash of everything. He was no longer made of money.
At the same time, famine made everyone hungry. Mayday! [1]
The boy took a job looking after pigs, and wished to eat their pods. He realized this thinking made him out to be a fool. He made his mind up to ask his father to appoint him to the staff; he wanted to be made a servant.
On his way (he made a few miles before dark) he made up a speech; but when he was still a long way off, his father made him out in the gathering gloom and made a run for it.
He made light of his days of worry and kissed him and gave him a ring made from gold, shoes custom-made for his feet and a coat made to fit. The boy made neither head nor tail of it. The father, who was made-up, told the maid to slaughter the calf, and later the cook made a meal of it, with a rosti made from potato and garlic, after another servant had made a fire.
The partygoers made way for the boy and his father to step up, and then they all made merry.
‘Rejoice! He who made heaven and earth has given me back my son!’
[1] French for Help me (m’aidez!) But as those French might say, do not be alarmed, as the story has a happy ending: mais denouement est jolie.
No comments:
Post a Comment