LIFE’S problems aren’t as complicated as we make them out to be. Most have very simple solutions: A large truck attempting to go through a railway underpass found itself stuck between the road and the girders above. The emergency crew sent out by the truck owners tried without success to extricate it and in a short time traffic was stalled for almost a mile on both sides of the underpass.
Finally a small boy walked over to the emergency crew’s foreman and said, “If I were you I’d let some air out of the tires!” The suggestion was taken and the truck was soon on its way. A simple solution to a rather weighty problem!
On the wall of a petrol station is a cartoon that conveys the same lesson with a humorous twist. It shows an automobile completely torn apart, the engine hoisted out, wrenches, springs and pistons scattered all over the floor, all indicative of the grim determination to discover the cause of some malfunction. A mechanic is stretched under the car, pulling the crank case apart.
In the cartoon, leaning down to him is a fellow mechanic, obviously delighted in the discovery he has made, “I think I’ve found the trouble Raj,” he is shouting, “No Petrol!” After you’ve had a laugh, don’t you wonder how so many of us blessed with great intelligence let our childish pride blind us to the most obvious?
Simple solutions for the most complicated problems. And here’s the most simple solution of them all: A little boy was perturbed every night to hear his parents quarrelling. This went on night after night and he knew from what he had heard from other little boys in school that this normally led to divorce and he would soon be either without a daddy or a mummy. One day he went to his best friend in school and told him his problem.
“Simple,” said the other little fellow, “This is what I do when this happens at home, try it out.” The next night as soon as the fighting started the parents heard the sound of the back door being opened but so engrossed were they in their duel of words, they ignored the sound. The next night the same thing happened and so also the night after: Curious they tiptoed to the door and opening it found their little son, sitting on the steps looking up and whispering something.
“Who are you talking to?” asked a concerned father. “To God,” said the little fellow, “I’m just telling Him I want my daddy and mummy to stop fighting and stay together. “It worked!” said the little boy a week later to his friend. “It worked; I didn’t know it was so simple..!”
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
