A Happy Ending
Copyright 2005 by Jon Gill

This is a story of laughter and wealth
Of riches and humor and love in good health
Of no fortunes failing or leaking in stealth
This tale has a sure happy ending:
There once was a man who we shall call Joe
A man of great promise who wanted to know
Just who, what and when and how he should go
And to what he ought to be tending.

Joe was a craftsman, a sculptor by trade
You could enter his shop and see what he’d made
A fair man, he agreed to whatever you paid
He was not a fake just pretending.
His artwork was good, it made people smile
It never required more than a short while
To chisel and sand and carve and to file
A sculpture quite worthy of vending.

Joe was a young man, though he was quite skilled
He always observed a new need to be filled
And some people said that he was strong-willed
They’d not seen a thing needing mending
But as a young man, poor Joe was alone
His sculptures were cold, with no marrow or bone
He’d sit at home anxious and wait by the phone
For a tale with a sure happy ending.

Every day he’d see women go out and come in
Of all shapes and sizes, the fat and the thin
He’d notice their figures, from toenails to chin
They were often befit for befriending
He’d take all the features he noticed each day
And dig adept fingers down into his clay
And shape every one into the finest array
Of icons in colorful blending.

Each work he created was precious to him
It spoke of reality captured in whim
From every smile to every limb
It saluted the truth with its bending
And so it continued for year after year
Inspiration quite present, but never quite near
And Joe became lonely, he started to fear
He’d never see his happy ending.

Then one day a man walked into his shop
Took a look at Joe’s work, from bottom to top
And discovered a piece that caused him to stop
As if hiding a tale worth defending
He got Joe’s attention when he asked for his aid
In explaining the details of this piece he had made
And concerning these works, just what Joe had prayed
What messages Joe had been sending.

Joe came to the man, feeling edgy and tired
And wondered just why the man had inquired
He remembered the piece that had been inspired
By a mental ideal’s image-blending
This piece, he explained, was exactly what he
Had asked the Lord for when down on one knee
This face he had never had the privilege to see
But he hoped it was his happy ending.

The man seemed indifferent to Joe’s wistful eyes
It appeared that Joe’s fantasy was met with despise
Or that the story was fruitless, unfinished, or lies
He could not tell what was yet pending
The man turned around and started to leave
And Joe asked if he should still try to believe
In this hope that had secretly almost been thieved
And was now very slowly re-mending.

The man told Joe not to fret or to worry
That someday she’d come with an eager love scurry
He told him to wait for that one without hurry
But against all the rest to be fending
Joe wondered just what he ought to do now
As the man left the shop, he wondered just how
This man knew enough to make such a vow
And again, what now to be tending.

He recalled the day he had crafted that piece
The persistent image of her would not cease
He knew that an image would never bring peace
That’s why all those prayers he’d been sending
He needed a woman who did more than smile
A face with expression, a heart with no guile
An statue could never aptly compile
The angel of his happy ending.

For the next several weeks, Joe faithfully prayed
For a wife of fine character, bold, unafraid
Whose worth did not come from of what she was made
A maid without any pretending
And as Joe grew conscious of what he desired
He saw that the image that hope had inspired
Became less important, not what he admired
It was true hope he was now defending.

After some while, the man came back in
He greeted Joe first, and asked how he’d been
Joe said he’d been thinking about wishes and sin
And how to his heart he’d been tending
The man nodded, satisfied, and looked out the door
As the woman walked in, Joe’s jaw hit the floor
For this girl was all that he’d wanted and more
The example of all his hopes blending.

The man explained why he had been so surprised
When he came across Joe’s piece before his eyes
He wanted to know if it might be Joe’s prize
Something he’d hold worthy of defending
When Joe had explained that it was that indeed
The man had decided he’d found who he’d need
To take care of his daughter in word and in deed
With resolve never breaking or bending.

And though Joe had never had the privilege to see
This woman’s face, he had known who she’d be
And prayed and prepared himself, proven worthy
Believing in what God was sending
The man gladly placed the girl’s hand into Joe’s
And they thanked the Lord from their head to their toes
She smiled as one who undoubtedly knows
The Father who gave a happy ending.


Back to Book 4

Home