Thursday, May 25, 2000
I volunteered to work at the local soup kitchen this weekend. The manager—an old, weathered black man—came up to me and, with a twinkle in his eye, said, "If you wanna see a miracle, stick around."
It was right out of Touched By An Angel. I wondered if there was any validity to that remark. Maybe this was a sign from God. Perhaps my volunteering was an act that would set off a string of events that would bring about a small miracle in this mountain town, cascading down through society, touching people of all cultures and nations, and ultimately bringing about world peace. I figured I'd stick around like the old man said and see if maybe magic really does happen like in Sitcomland.
Three hours and two-hundred chopped onions later, there was still no miracle. Looking down at the massive mountain of chopped bulbs in front of me, I suddenly realized I had performed a miracle: effectively chopping an onion a minute for the past three hours. I wiped away the tears from my eyes. The twinkle in his eyes must have been from the onions.
Et Cetera
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