It Takes All Kinds To Make A World

It Takes All Kinds To Make A World

Every individual is unique, somewhat like the various members in our body. Each member has its own capabilities, its own specific place to fill and function to perform for the common good. To compare one with the other is pointless. So why are we humans so prone to compare ourselves with one another, to bemoan what we cannot do that another can, or to boast of what we can do that another can’t? Believe it or not – and like it or not – we are all interdependent, continually relying on the special abilities and expertise of others and on each one’s contribution to society.

***

Mr. Brown sat slouched in his armchair, puffing on his pipe and reading a book.

Ear perked up suddenly, having detected some sounds. Clomp, clomp, clomp . . . Something, or rather someone, was coming. It sounds like footsteps, Ear thought. But I’ve never heard precisely those steps before. Drat! If only I were able to see. I wonder who it could be? They’re definitely getting closer. Clomp, clomp . . . Ear gave Eye a sharp nudge. “Tear yourself away from that book you’ve been glued to for the last hour,” he said. “Someone’s coming. Look and see who it is.”

Eye sputtered and muttered. “Just when the suspense is ratcheting up,” he said, “and now I’ve lost my place on the page.” Eye looked up from the book to focus on the figure that was approaching and straightaway recognized Mrs. Brown. He bulged open even further upon spotting the brand new, shiny red, high-heeled shoes she was wearing.

Mouth finally got himself in gear. “Hello, darling. New shoes, I see.” One could detect just a smidgen of accusation in the tone of his words.

“How many times do I have to tell you to take that damned pipe out of your mouth when you’re talking to me?” Mrs. Brown said.

Ear cringed at the sharp rebuke and quickly relayed the message to Hand. Hand hopped to, dropping the book in the process, and relieved Mouth of the pipe.

“Sorry, dear,” Mouth said.

“Yes, I’ve bought some new shoes,” Mrs. Brown said. “How do you like them?”

Ear reminded Mouth that now was the time for diplomacy. “Oh, they’re quite lovely, I’m sure,” Mouth said. But at the same time Brain was busy calculating and determined that they must have cost a princely sum.

“Since you’ve obviously forgotten our anniversary – which was yesterday, by the way – I decided to get myself a gift,” Mrs. Brown said. “Anyway, I’m glad you like the shoes.” She turned to go, and then stopped herself. “Oh yes, I got you something too.” She dropped an object in Mr. Brown’s lap.

Hand lay down the pipe and picked it up. He felt it with his fingers and could make out that it was some kind of shallow box with a lid, but being blind, Hand couldn’t see the picture of red roses on the top or read what was written there.

Eye could, of course. “Assorted Fine Chocolates,” he read. Eye opened wide at the sight, and gave Mouth a cue. “Don’t just gape, you’d better say something quick,” he said.

Mouth took the hint. “Oh, darling, you shouldn’t have, but thank you so much. Listen, dear, I’m so sorry I forgo . . .”

Mrs. Brown cut him off. “Never mind, dear. It’s certainly not the first time. Anyway, thanks for the new shoes. I’ve wanted some just like them for the longest time. And now I wouldn’t mind one of those – one with nougat filling, please.”

After being informed by Ear what Mrs. Brown had said, Mouth hastened to reply, “Why certainly, by all means, darling.”

Brain instructed Hand to hold out the box to Mrs. Brown, and after she had made her selection Eye looked them over carefully. He liked the looks of one in the upper lefthand corner, wrapped in shiny gold paper, and prompted Hand to take that one and unwrap it.

Hand did just that. He popped it into Mouth’s drooling gap, but not without getting a smear of gooey, soft chocolate on two of his fingers. Ugh. Hand hated having sticky fingers. But Mrs. Brown would be angry if he wiped them on the arm of the chair, so he held them up in the air. He’d learned his lesson. He’d gotten a rap on the knuckles once or twice before for a similar transgression

Meanwhile Mouth smacked and chomped and chewed away and finally swallowed. “Mmmmmm, heavenly,” he said.

Eye continued to look longingly at the chocolates in the box on Mr. Brown’s lap and wished that even once he could have a chance to taste one, but taste he could not and neither could he chew or swallow. It’s not fair, he thought to himself. Mouth always gets to enjoy the sweets and I never get more than a tantalizing look at them. Ear listened enviously while Mouth ate, and at the same time, he harbored more than a little disgust at Mouth’s lack of couth, making such unseemly noises over a measly little praline. Meanwhile, Hand continued holding his chocolatey fingers aloft and waved them about impatiently.

Finally Eye saw what Hand was on about and informed Mouth to lick off those sticky fingers so he could quit looking at them flapping about. Mouth complied without complaint and then finished with another loud smack of his lips.

Mrs. Brown went her way and Mr. Brown let out a sigh of contentment and leaned back in his chair once again. Due to years of experience, Hand seemed to know instinctively what was wanted next.  He groped around for the pipe, found it, and lifted it up to Mouth. Mouth drew a long drag on the pipe and savored the taste of the smoke as it swirled around inside. Nose twitched, enjoying the pungent tobacco smell. But Eye, stung by the smoke, squinted and blinked and squinted some more.

Mr. Brown then remembered his book and wondered what had become of it, so Hand obediently reached down and groped around on the floor by the chair until he found it. Eye was soon glued to the page again, and Hand was kept busy holding the book up where Eye could see it. Mouth puffed away on the pipe clenched between his teeth, and Ear – when peace and quiet prevailed once more – nodded off in a semi-doze.