Humor

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Mission Fields

One bright Sunday morning the Missionary looked out of her front window and saw a sight that alarmed her. A man was attempting to cross a field with his two young boys. Three stray dogs stood menacingly in the field, growling at the trio.

The Missionary threw on her house coat, ran to the edge of her yard and asked the man if he was trying to get to the highway.
He replied yes, he was trying to take a short cut, but was afraid of the dogs.

This was a perfect time to do a good deed! “Wait just a minute.” She ran to her car. In a second, she had backed out and pulled to the side of the road.
“Get in. I’ll take you and the boys up to the highway.”
The man opened the rear door and put his boys in the back. Then he climbed into the passenger's seat.
She started the car. “Those dogs do look dangerous!”
“Yes Maam.”

In a couple of minutes they were on the street.
“Now where were you trying to go?” she asked
“To the liquor store,” the man said solemnly.
The liquor store! The Missionary was shocked. She wished she had asked more questions.

The two boys opened the door and got out. The man didn’t move.
Suddenly three men with brown paper sacks in their hand approached the car.
“Pookie! Is that you?” They were shocked to see Pookie in the car with the Missionary.

A big wide grin spread across Pookie’s face. He still didn’t move.
“Get out Mr. Pookie, Pookie…whatever your name is…” The Missionary said, annoyed, her pink curlers shining in the morning sun.
Pookie still did not get out. He leaned forward and whispered something in one of the men’s ear.

Get out, Pookie! I am in a hurry!”
“Don’t want to.”
“What? Get out now!”
“Don’t want to.”

The missionary was alarmed and amazed. What had she gotten herself into? She was only trying to help the man!
She jumped out of the car in her robe and pink fuzzy slippers.
Addressing the men with the brown paper sacks, she said,
“Is this man Mr. Pookie, Pookie, or whatever his name is, your friend? Tell him to get out of my car right now!”
One man took a long swig and shook his head.
“No Maam. Pookie said you told him to get in the car.”

“I was trying to help him! I was trying to keep his boys from getting chased and bitten by those stray dogs!”
“He said you told him to get in.”

These people are crazy!
She grabbed her cell phone. “I’m calling the Police!”
“He’s at Sunday School. I saw him at the church about an hour and a half ago.”
Another man said. “He ain’t on duty until after lunch on Sundays.”

The Missionary flagged down a man who was passing by, a man who did not have a brown paper sack in his hands.
“Sir! Sir! Can you help me.? I tried to help this man and now he won’t get out of my car!”
The man looked inside. “Pookie! You let Pookie get in your car?”

She explained again about the dog, and the boys and the field.”
“Maam, you should never let Pookie get in your car—for no reason!”
“He looked like a sober man.”
“Maam, Pookie ain’t never sober!”

The man opened the door and dragged Pookie out of the car. He landed on the pavement, but got up quickly and went into the liquor store.

The angry Missionary jumped into her car. She decided to say a few words to the men.
“You fellas are drinking early on a Sunday morning. Do you know Jesus?”
One man said, “I know Jesus. I like him, too. I just got a bad drinking problem.”
She decided to pray with them. Maybe something good could come from this loony situation.

Just before she pulled away, Pookie exited the liquor store with his own brown paper sack. He leaned down and looked through the window.
“Maam, I’m gonna need a ride up here next Sunday Morning, too.” he said.
“I’ll be waiting in the field.”
Copyright 2007

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