Friday, June 12, 2009

Fiction Friday



Once upon a time there was a basket of freshly-gathered eggs sitting in the farm's
refrigerator. With nothing better to do, they began talking about what they wanted to
become.

One egg commented, "I hope that I will be poached in the microwave. It looks like
such a high-tech machine. I'm sure it would be a thrilling experience!"

"Not me!" another one spoke up. "The old fashioned way is the best for me. I want to be
hard-boiled on the stove top."

"The old fashioned way is nice, but boiling isn't much of an adventure," said
another. "I want to get out of my shell to be cooked. My dream is to be a fried egg!"

"I agree, I'd like to get out of my shell, but I also would like to mix with some others.
I want to be a scrambled egg."

The last egg had been very quiet throughout this exchange, but now it vehemently declared,
"I will not be cooked at all!"

"What?!" exclaimed the egg nearest.

"You cannot be eaten if you are not cooked!" chimed in another one.

"Exactly!" the rebellious egg affirmed. "I do not want to be eaten. What a waste!"

"But," sputtered the egg aspiring to be hard-boiled, "eggs were MADE to be eaten. That is
our purpose in life!" All the other eggs agreed.

"That's what THEY want you to believe!" the egg motioned to the refrigerator door. "After
all, they get all the benefits. They get to consume an excellent egg and think nothing of
it. But we, on the other hand, have nothing to show for it. We are simply gone and no one
remembers us at all after a few days."

The others looked at one another skeptically. Could it really be true? It was all just a
selfish ploy on the part of the people? Was there more to life for an egg? The egg hoping
to be poached in the microwave cried, "But don't you remember the question of which came first,
the chicken or the egg? We've always known that it was the chicken because that is where
we came from. God created the first chicken, and eggs have always been. God has always
allowed us to be eaten, at least those of us that didn't become chickens."

"It's a little late for that," the egg dreaming of frying interjected.

"But who said that anyway? How do we know that God created us or that He wanted us to be
eaten?" This question quite stymied the eggs, and they rested in their basket in silence
for a good while pondering it.

Finally, one brave egg exclaimed, "I don't know quite how we came to know it, but I know
it is true. After all, it works perfectly. Every good egg worth its' yolk aspires to be
cooked and eaten."

"Well I, for one, am going to be different!" the nonconformist egg replied. "You all may
waste away your life in the belly of a person, but I will get my fulfillment out of life.
Just watch!"

"But what do you plan to do?" asked one of the others.

"I will go away from the basket and no one will find me. I will do whatever I want, and
long after you are eaten, I will be fulfilling an egg's best dream."

"What could an egg possibly dream other than to be cooked and eaten?" muttered the
proponent of scrambling. But the stubborn egg had made up its' mind and was not to be
dissuaded by those "brainwashed, hard-shelled creatures." So, it made its way to the bottom
of the vegetable bin and was indeed missed the whole following week as the farmer's wife
used each of the other eggs.

The egg that desired the high-tech lifestyle was indeed poached and enjoyed providing such
a healthy meal for the farmer's lunch. The egg that wished to be hard-boiled the old
fashioned way, bobbled merrily in the rolling water and giggled as the farmer sprinkled
salt over its' new yolk. The next egg was fried to perfection and had a wonderful
conversation with the bacon who was happy to join him in providing a delightful breakfast
for the farmer before he went to work in the field. "Beats a pig sty any day!" were the
last words that little egg heard it say. The egg that enjoyed mixing with others, reveled
in the experience of joining the milk in the bowl and being whipped with a fork into a
lovely froth. They made a great team as they were pushed about the pan, and they were very
happy to meet the fresh-grated cheese the farmer's wife sprinkled atop them before placing
them on the farmer's plate. So it was that none of them ever did know the end of the
stubborn egg hiding away in the vegetable drawer.

That poor egg thought that everyone would respect it just because it was an egg,
but the onions and peppers only sneered. "Don't you know that eggs are meant to be eaten?"
The baking soda which graced the back of the refrigerator to fight odors told him that
being out in the cold refrigerator world sounded good at first, but after a while life got
a little stale. Refusing to listen, the egg tried to skip to the butter crock only to be
shoved out by a disgusted stick of butter. "Of all the things an egg can be, why would you
try to be something you're not designed to be? An egg can never become butter!" That shove
proved to be the end of that egg's aspiring dreams. The next morning, the farmer's wife
opened the door to see a horrific mess on the bottom of her squeaky clean refrigerator.
"Oh my! How did this happen? I'm sure I didn't drop any of the eggs." The last thing the
broken egg heard as he was put into the trash to rot was a sigh and the words,
"What a waste!"

Though humorous perhaps as it relates to eggs, this is the sad tale of many a
woman. Determining to "be her own person" and refusing to "waste her life on others", she
steps away from the role God graciously designed for her to fill. She becomes like the
stubborn egg trying to fill the roles designed for others. At best, she will spend her life
secretly thinking things are "a little stale". However, when she gets to the end of her
life and realizes that her life was lived only for herself and is broken and rotten, she
will be forced to admit, "What a waste!"

On the other hand, those women that embrace their roles of wife and mother find that life is far from boring or wasted. There are so many opportunities open to them as keepers of their homes. Perhaps they will do things the old fashioned way as did the hard-boiled egg. Or maybe they prefer the glamor of the high-tech like the poached egg. They may enjoy a solitary life of quiet or they may mix with other women sharing the joy of a life dedicated to their families. The possibilities for women are endless if they desire to be women as God created them to be.


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3 comments:

  1. Creative analogy, and a great message. Thanks for joining Friday Fiction!

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  2. Very clever! Enjoyed the analogy and words of wisdom.

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  3. Hi! Unrelated, but, I just wanted to tell you that since that winner of the giveaway I did wanted Fireproof, I still have the book For Women Only. I read it myself and it's in new condition. You're welcome to it and I'll mail it to you if you want. Just email me your info! Love your blog and it's blessed me so much, I thought I'd bless you back!

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