TALES FROM WORMY
The Worm and the Thread
Once there was a worm who went by the
name of Willie, who lived in a burrow called Wormy
Womp-pile. Now a Womp-pile is not such a lovely place to
live for a people like you and me, but for a worm of
Willie's size it is a wondrous place indeed.
You may be wondering, "What is a
womp-pile?" and you would be wise indeed to ask such
a question. If you were to ask that question of Willie
and his friends, they would tell you that a Womp-pile is
a grand villa surrounded by tall green trees and golden
lakes. But since it was me who you asked; I will have to
tell you that a Womp-pile is what a cow leaves behind in
a cow pasture in her daily chore of nibbling grass.
"One man's mansion is another
man's cow-patty," as they say.
Now it should be known that worms are
very industrious animals, not a bit like the snail and
the slug who sun themselves on rocks and perch on leaves
in order to watch Willie and the worms of Wormy Womp-pile
work away. Oh no; Willie and the worms work very hard
each day digging holes in the ground searching for tasty
roots and expanding their housing development for future
worms of Wormy Womp-pile.
Worms, you see, are complacent
creatures, content to dig and eat, and play
ring-around-the-rosy in their cozy womp-pile.
But Willie was a different sort of
worm. He was not much like the other worms with whom he
worked and wandered. No; Willie had a curious streak
located right where his heart would have been, if worms
had a heart.
Willie was not like the other worms,
and the other worms of Wormy Womp-pile knew it, and
wondered mightily about Willie Worm's wisdom.
And what stirred Willie's
curiosity-spot that lay right where his heart would be,
if worms had a heart; was a single golden thread that
hangs from the sky; Right in the middle of Wormy
Womp-pile it hangs. Day after day after day the thread
hangs, suspended from nothing at all but the sky above.
"Don't go near that
thread!" every-worm warned Willie. "It's there
to tempt and tease us worms of Wormy Womp-pile,"
they warned Willie. Over and over, and many times the
worms warned Willie to stay away from the golden thread
that hangs from nothing, and goes nowhere at all.
And Willie listened. Usually.
But today is a different day than
all the different days that had gone on before. Today
Willie is finding himself irresistibly drawn to the
golden thread that hangs from nowhere and is suspended
from nothing but the sky above. Yes; today is a different
"Don't go near the
thread!" all the worms warned Willie as they
witnessed the look that was in the place where Willie's
eyes would be, if worms had eyes. "We see that look
in the place your eyes would be, if worms had eyes. We
can see how you are being irresistibly drawn to that
golden thread that hangs from nothing and goes to no
place at all."
But it was plain to see that Willie
wasn't listening; even if worms had ears with which to
listen. He just continued to stare; if worms had eyes
with which to stare, at the golden thread that hangs from
nothing at all.
"Legend has it," Wanda
Worm whispered from a safe distance from the golden
thread that hangs from nothing at all, "that other
worms have been irresistibly drawn to the golden thread,
and have disappeared, never to be seen again by any worm,
even if worms had eyes with which to see."
Now all the worms of Wormy
Womp-pile knew that if there was any-worm that could
dissuade Willie Worm from the madness he was obviously
considering; it was Wanda Worm. Wanda Worm was the
"Worm's Worm," and had curves in all the right
places; many, many, many of them.
And every-worm knew that Willie had
eyes for Wanda; if worms had eyes with which to have for
Willie Worm turned what would have
been his head, if worms had a head, away from the golden
thread and focused his attention on Wanda Worm. What
self-respecting worm wouldn't have done the same?
All the worms of Wormy Womp-pile
gave a tremendous sigh of relief; if worms had lungs with
which to....; oh, but you know what I'm going to
say without my saying it.
But Willie Worm's attention had
only been averted for a moment, and was once again
irresistibly drawn back to the irresistible golden thread
that hangs from nothing at all.
"Willie Worm, it is insanity
that is causing you to be irresistibly drawn to that
golden thread," Dr. Wormwood, the Head Doctor of
headdoctor's expounded. (It must be explained that
Doctors do not just say things like you and me;
they expound, or perform some other ritual that we lesser
mortals do not understand or appreciate.) "It is
plain as the nose on your face, if you had a nose, or a
face with which to have a nose on, that you are suffering
from a broken sibling; and it is imperative that you
consult me at your earliest convenience. Here is my
But Doctor Wormwood's expert
counsel went unheeded, for Willie Worm's interest in the
golden thread had not abated; no, not even for a moment.
It was clear to all that someone
with more influence and authority was needed to divert
this wayward worm from his reckless ways.
So in response to such a crises as
this, the Reverend Mister Blackworm stepped forward; his
concordance and lexicon in his hand, if worms had hands.
"Doctrines, dogmas, theologies and
eschatologies are all in agreement, my son, indicating
that what you are contemplating is ridiculous, dangerous,
foolhardy, and just downright sinful. And therefore I
must insist that you turn away from this insidious
madness immediately, and let us lay hands on you, that is
if we had hands, and pray for the redemption of your
Such an impassioned plea could not
possibly go unheeded.
And it did not.
Willie Worm stepped up to the
golden thread, figuratively speaking, that hangs from
nothing and goes nowhere at all, and gave it a tug in
order to assure its ability to hold his weight. Worms,
you see, are not without faith, but they also test their
situation to insure that it is up to the challenge.
All the worms of Wormy Womp-pile
heaved a gasp in unison, Then, with bated breath, they
all stared as if they had eyes with which to stare at the
pudgy worm before them as he slowly began his climb up
the golden thread that hangs from nothing and goes to
nowhere at all.
"He'll never make it,"
said Wilfred Worm, willfully."
"The thread will break, sure as
all get-out," retorted Windle Worm, rhetorically.
"Whatever may be the outcome
of this exhilarating experience, it will make wondrous
material for a poem," soliloquized Waldo Emerson
And while there was much ado and
speculation as to the outcome of this extraordinary
event, rapt attention never once left Willie Worm as he
continued his climb, and that slowly for sure, up the
golden thread that hangs from nothing and goes to nowhere
And to be sure, there was not a worm
amongst them who could not claim to have had a worm's eye
view of this historical event, that is if worms had eyes
with which to behold such an event.
While Willie Worm climbed the
golden thread, speculation of every sort was discussed
amongst the observers at the bottom of the thread that
hangs from nothing and goes nowhere at all. Every
conceivable failure was considered, with not a single
worm amongst them that exhibited the slightest confidence
in the success, whatever that might be, of Willie Worm's
"Look!" exclaimed Wanda
Worm excitedly. "Willie has disappeared into nowhere
All eyes, figuratively speaking,
searched the skies above them trying for but a glimpse of
the tail end of Willie Worm. But there was not a sign or
a shadow of a worm to be seen.
"The sky has swallowed him up,
just like I said it would," speculated
Wutherton-Whimbey Worm, grandiosely.
"No it didn't," retorted
Walton Worm rhetorically, "he fell off the thread. I
saw him with my own two eyes, if I had eyes with which to
Speculation over Willie Worm's fate
ran rampant amongst the witnessing worms of Wormy
Womp-pile, with no two speculators speculating the same
* * *
"I have reached the top of the
golden thread," Willie Worm appraised, "and I
can go no further. And it appears that what every-worm
was telling me is totally true; there is indeed nothing
at all at the end of the golden thread that hangs from
nothing at all."
As Willie Worm clung to the top of the
golden thread that hangs from nothing at all, he surveyed
the sky above him as well as the earth below.
"The sky above is so magnificent
and so clear," Willie Worm said wistfully to no one
at all. "And everything below looks so small and
insignificant from way up here, where it all seemed so
big and important from way down there. But I suppose now
that I have reached the top of the golden thread that
truly hangs from nothing and goes nowhere at all; the
only alternative left for me is to turn around and go
back down since I've reached the end of my thread."
While Willie Worm considered such
tactics, a hand reached down from out of nowhere at all,
far above the golden thread that hangs from nothing and
goes to nowhere at all, cradled Willie gently in the palm
of the hand, then carried Willie high above the thread
that hangs from nothing and goes nowhere at all.
"I was beginning to believe that
no one from Wormy Womp-pile would ever accept the
challenge of the golden thread," the voice attached
to the hand that cradled Willie Worm surmised.
"Such a wonderful place this
is," Willie Worm rhapsodized as he surveyed all that
lay before him as he rested in the palm of the hand that
cradled him. "Does all this belong to you,
"Yes, it does, Willie, and now it
belongs to you as well."
"To me? But I am but a worm. How
could I possibly be of any use in such a magnificent
place as this. If it were that I was a man like you,
"And that you will be, my son.
For all who hear my voice, and have the courage to climb
the golden thread as you have this day, are rewarded with
a body such as mine. Here, I will sit you on this throne
and in a moment you will be as I am."
"Sir, that truly is a wonderful
gift indeed, and more than I could ever wish or hope for;
but, Sir, could I first go back down the golden thread to
Wormy Womp-pile and tell the other worms about the thread
that hangs from nothing and goes to nowhere at all? Can I
let them know that the golden thread does go to
somewhere wonderful and beautiful, and that they, too,
can have a body such as you have?"
"It will not change their
minds, my son. They have their own stories and faerie
tales they would rather believe than anything you or I
might tell them. But if you wish, you may return and try
as you will."
So once again Willie Worm journeyed
down the golden thread that hangs from nothing and goes
to nowhere at all, happily carrying a message of greatest
importance to those he cared for most on earth; the worms
of Wormy Womp-pile.
* * *
"It's foolishness. We all know
you didn't really climb that thread."
"It was a magic trick. I've seen
it done with ropes and snakes and things like that
"It was hypnotism, just like I
always said it was."
"Besides, anybody could climb that
old thread. I could do it easily, if I wanted too."
"Sure, me too, just like I always
"It's madness, just as I warned
you. But it's not too late. Here is my card."
"Just like I told you, my son,
stay away from that golden thread. It's evil and will
bring you delusions and lead you astray. Let us lay hands
on you and...."
"No, no! You have it all
wrong! You have to listen to me!" Willie Worm cried
to those of Wormy Womp-pile. "It's wonderful up
there. And all you have to do is believe it enough to
climb the thread. You don't have to stay a worm.
You can be men and women! You can have eyes to
see, and ears to hear. You can even have a heart
with which to love and care for others. You don't have
to remain worms here in Wormy Womp-pile. All you have to
do is believe, and climb!"
But the worms of Wormy Womp-pile
did not listen to Willie Worm, just as he had been told
by the Man at the end of the golden thread that hangs
from nothing and goes to somewhere wonderful indeed. For
as worms are inclined to be; they had no ears to hear,
nor eyes to see.
So Willie Worm again climbed the Golden
thread, this time without fanfare, and with a downcast
spot that would have been, and soon will be his heart,
for those he cared for most on earth; but must leave
behind in the little Womp-pile in the middle of the cow
pasture where cows carry on their daily chores and
continue to nibble grass.
[This story Inspired by
Psalms 22:6; Job 25:6; Isa 41:14; Matt 7:14; 13:15-16:
19:28,29; 1Tim 4:6-7]