I came across this tale “remade” after a Yiddish fable I used to read to the kids when they were little. One of my favorites in terms of teaching resilience and perspective, I tried to point to the faith at the deep center of our strength here at the nut–er, Burk House. We are all changed. May we carry these lessons forward and be grateful.

It Could Always be Worse

(with grateful acknowledgement to Margot Zemach)

Once upon a time, a relatively fortunate man lived in a modest suburban home with his wife, three children, two cats, and a dog.

Because their lives were modern the schedule was busy, the man and his wife quarreled, the children squabbled, the dog chased the cat and the cats howled night and day. All day long they came and went and went and came until nobody ever knew whether he was coming or going anymore.

Finally, the man went to seek the advice of the reigning Pandemic, which had grown quite powerful in the land.

“We are so busy and there is so much noise,” pleaded the man. “Please, oh mighty Pandemic, can you help us?”

“Ah,” said the Pandemic, “I see.” The Pandemic pulled at his mask and rubbed his gloved hands thoughtfully. At last, he said, “Have you a college student you could move back in indefinitely?”

The man said that yes, he did have a college student. He moved her back in. The college student used the Wi-fi, wrote papers night and day, and sang out loud when she washed the dishes. She did extra chores and made large piles of the things she did not want in her bedroom anymore.

Still the man was not happy. The children quarreled over the bathroom, the college student used the Wi-fi and wrote papers night and day, and the senior was miserable because she could not go to school.

“Perfect!” Said the Pandemic. “Have you any major trips you can cancel, anything fun you’ve been looking forward to or have paid for with a non-refundable deposit?”

“Yes!” Said the man. “We have planned a momentous, costly family mission trip in honor of the graduating senior, and my wife has booked a once-in-a-lifetime mother-daughter trip. My older daughter has her heart set on a concert of great significance, and my son has been training diligently for a 100-mile hike with his scout troop during spring break.

“Spring Break?” said Pandemic, feeling feverish with a slight cough, “What is this?”

So they canceled it all and were the most unbusy they had ever been.

When some days or a week had passed, life in the moderately-sized suburban home was even worse. Still the man was not happy. Now the children squabbled, the dog chased the cat and the cats howled night and day and none of them went anywhere at all. Ever.

“Oh, mighty pandemic,” cried the man, “Please help me! It is worse than ever. My life is a nightmare!”

The Pandemic thought for a moment and a gleam appeared in his eye. “My poor, relatively fortunate man. Is it possible you have any special celebrations or upcoming milestones–years in the making–that you might expunge from your calendar? Have you, in fact, any calendar at all that you can destroy beyond recognition?”

The man realized his calendar was chock full of fun upcoming events, field trips, concerts, awards, honors, parties and celebrations, and so he cancelled them all and spent the time wiping down doorknobs and watching You-Tube.

Still the poor man’s house was so tense and stressed out. The children ate in their bedrooms and their son moved out to live in a tent. Now with the squabbling, barking, yowling and fighting, there was wailing over the lost events and life milestones. The cats freaked out because there were too many people and the dog was annoying as only a dog can be. The poor man could hardly believe his misfortune. In desperation he went back to the Pandemic and begged him to help.

“I am sorry to hear this,” said the Pandemic, “perhaps you are too socially distant. Have you a Zoom platform with which to connect virtually to all the meetings that kept you away from your family before? Have you, perhaps, the ability to conference call over unimportant matters at the most in-opportune time when your family needs you or dinner is being served?”  “Yes?” said the man, dubious. He went home with a heavy heart and installed an arsenal of new technology which tanked his Wi-fi and his bank account.

Now the poor unfortunate man felt he was losing his mind. The children quarreled, the cats chased the dog, the wife wailed over the empty calendar, the ZOOM took up hours of the day or crashed entirely, and everywhere his house was bursting with misery and despair.

“Holy Pandemic, save me! The end of the world has come! It’s worse than a nightmare!” The Pandemic listened and thought. He sized up the man carefully, and he thought some more. At last he spoke. “Ah, my poor relatively fortunate man. Have you, per chance, any hope? Any faith that though you are not in control, God is?

“Why, yes!” said the man, because though he was certain the situation was dire and his family had lost much, they did have that one thing left. “Good,” said the Pandemic. “Very good. Then you must go home and practice it.”

So the man did. He went home to wife and children and two cats and a dog and he sheltered in place–with faith. Slowly, the house returned to normal. Only it was not normal. It was new. The live stream dried up, the Zoom video platform left the meeting, the empty calendars evaporated, some refunds trickled in from cancelled events they might not have enjoyed anyway, and the freed time called them into the backyard. The back yard was quiet and unseasonably cool. The children stopped squabbling and played badminton. The wife stopped crying over a stripped calendar and called for carry-out, the dog decided to chase squirrels instead, and the cats moved out to size up the tent. The college student finished her virtual semester with a 4.0, the high school senior made peace with social distancing and made beautiful crafts, and the son, in his glory, decided to live in the tent forever. Life was sweet again for the man and his family.

The very next day the relatively fortunate man went running back to the Pandemic. “It is a miracle! You have saved me!” cried the grateful man.” Now my children play barefoot in the back yard, my wife has spare time and my family laughs together. “Oh, holy Pandemic, thank you.”

The Pandemic smiled though his mask and winked at the fortunate man. “My good man,” he said, “You are most welcome. Now…have you any toilet paper?”

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