The Parable of the Little Red Hen

You remember the story...

The Little Red Hen asks her friends for help in baking a cake only to be met with a chorus of...

Not I
Not I
Not I
Not I

UNTIL it's time to EAT the cake.

Then EVERYONE wants to help...

Depending on which version you read, The Little Red Hen then eats it alone while the others watch or goes ahead and shares it with them anyway.

I know which version is the best to teach kids kindness.

I also know which I would probably do. (Hint: the two aren't the same)

But now I have to take this fairy tale and use a real-life application to its events, determining which ending I will use.

The Parable of the Little Red Hen...

We moved Mr. Raleigh to Biloxi last week. He was accepted into a program that will closely monitor him and help financially with his rent.

It is a perfect deal for him, as he needs assistance following his stroke last year.

But when it came time to move him, there was no-one around.

When we moved him INTO the original house, there was no shortage of people wanting to "help." At any given day there were 4-6 people sleeping in various parts of this one-bedroom house. Three times he was almost evicted because of this traffic, which included quite a bit of alcohol and drug use as well. We tried to help remove the people but many were those we were also helping so it was a delicate situation. Eventually, this opportunity opened up for him to move away into an expenses-paid apartment with one catch: he had to go alone.

I know he was worried. Not only did he have to give up drinking, he had to give up his friends as well.

The day before he moved, I called to make sure he had everything boxed up. There were 8 people over there and I told him to make sure they'd be there the next morning to help load.

Of course, NO-ONE was around.

When he'd almost been kicked out, they still didn't leave.

But now, he was of no use to them and they disappeared.

His stroke left him partially paralyzed so he was unable to lift anything.

As my husband, another lady in our ministry, and I loaded everything up, I could see those who'd been staying there for the last few months watching us from behind the liquor store nearby.

I was furious.

I was still on the ropes (See "Me and Muhammed Ali" April 28, 2016) and I admittedly didn't handle things well.

"Not ONE of those people over there better EVER EVER call me again for ANYTHING!" I seethed.

My husband gently pulled me aside, "Baby, you can't react like that when you're ministering."

Fortunately, I had enough of the Spirit operating in me to receive his admonishment gracefully and I changed my tune.

At least outwardly.

Inside I was still furious!

And I couldn't help but point out their absence to Raleigh so when he began to think life on the streets with his friends might be preferable to a free apartment all alone, he'd remember that these so-called friends vanished when he was no longer of use to them.

All I could think about was the Little Red Hen!

How upset she must have been!

But now he's moved and those people are still out there and they still have needs.

So I will share my cake.

They just probably won't get any sprinkles.