Thought Provoking Cartoons and Short Stories
Thought Provoking Cartoons Like This One
Raindrops and Eggs
~
John
Kruse ~
The
stones were dry and hot from the baking sunlight, it had been a long drought,
but now the rain and the melted snow high on the mountain formed a waterfall
cascading over the rocks. Swallows came
to nest on a cliff nearby, building their nests of mud and straw where they
protect their eggs and raise their chicks. To human ears the sound made by The Waterfall
is but rumbling and gurgling. But the
birds would speak to the waterfall and It would speak to them.
Together
they pondered life's Greater meaning, the Purpose of all things, how the lives
of the birds go on from generation to generation. And the waterfall pondered
the question; Am I here because of the water that flows through and downstream
eventually into the ocean. Does running
water Make me who I am or is it the shape of the Rocks that the waters run
across and give me my form, my existence?
Time seemed to flow by quickly for the
waterfall, soon the little swallows grew strong and flew away and so did their
parents. The dry winds came again. The Waterfall wondered would he remember his
little friends when they returned, would he be the same, would the Waterfall
know itself as it knows itself now? With
that thought the waterfall ceased to be, yet in time a raindrop fell and then
another and another. The waterfall was
alive and happy once more, even more so when its feathered friends returned.
The waterfall asked the birds; Am I
the same waterfall each time you return or am I a new waterfall? Do you have a name that you call me? The mother swallow said "we simply call
you Our Waterfall because you are the same each time we return". Time went by and the dry winds came and the
waterfall turned into a trickle, the birds flew away. Soon the waterfall was only dry rocks that lay
on the hillside in dreamless sleep. But then one day a raindrop fell and
another and another and the sound of feathered wings filled the air.
And... Like This
EMMA
~ John Kruse ~
The younger brother was fiddling with papers or
whatever, and did not immediately get out of the car. The older was just that; older, with not much
time left to waste in this life, so with a bouquet of plastic flowers in one
hand and his cane in the other, the old man walked down the path through a
garden of stones. He soon found the
weathered marker with the names of his mother and father. Placing there some of the flowers, then
looking a few spaces over where his little sister was buried. His little sister, her life cut short by that
tragic traffic accident those many years ago, yet it seemed like yesterday. He remembered that phone call informing him
his sister was gone; His pain on that day felt as if someone had poured boiling
water over him! Kneeling there he tried
to just remember the good things about her short life. Getting up on his feet with the help of his
cane, after giving her the rest of the plastic flowers, he thought; what a
small gift for someone who meant so much to his family, but it was all he could
give her now and in this world all she would ever need.
He walked to the edge of the cemetery, it
was on a hillside. As he looked down and
far across the lower landscape where one could see the Atlantic Ocean. He thought of his wife Emma and the trips they
had taken together, she loved the sea and to travel across it to new
adventures. They had gone and seen many
places together, and as he thought of his dear Emma he found himself wishing
they could have gone to see many more.
Although they had no children of their own they were often involved with
youth groups at church and other organizations, and of course spent a lot of
time with his niece and nephews. There
looking out toward the ocean he conjured up the details of his recollections
seeming to only remember the good times.
It was exceedingly hard to remember the bad; the illness and then
missing her so, as her ashes were spread at sea. But how could he miss her? She was always there with him in his thoughts.
As he stood there looking into the distance, the landscape began to blur, after blinking his eyes a couple of times the strangest feeling came over him; confusion, despair, and then it felt as if someone poured cold water over him. No more was there an ocean in the distance, he was no longer standing on a hillside, and the land was flat in front of him. Yet behind him was the garden of weathered stones, the markers standing there with the same names, the same dates just as they had always been. Feeling light-headed, and as if he were about to fall the old man leaned on his cane holding it tight with both hands. His mind spinning, his thoughts confused. He finally realized the ocean was nowhere to be seen, and that he was nowhere near where he thought, no! Where he knew he and his brother had been. And then it finally sank into his mind that they were in the Texas Panhandle. The younger brother, had been brushing dry grass and dust from little sister’s stone, he got up and came over to the older and said “are you OK?” “I was just thinking about my dear wife Emma,” the old man said softly.
On the short ride
home, as he stared out the passenger window at miles of ranch land, the old man
had little to say. Finally the younger
asked; who is Emma? You mumbled
something about Emma at the cemetery. “My
wife” he answered with a raised sharp voice “You’re younger than me; you
shouldn’t be forgetting who people are”!
The younger Brother looked over at him and said in a confused tone “what
do you mean; you’ve been a Bachelor all your life”.
And... Like This
Bipolar Bear
~ John Kruse ~
When The Earth's axis is exactly 90
degrees to the plane of its orbit round the Sun it is the beginning of spring,
nature begins to renew itself turning the world green. Even in the far north
above the Arctic Circle life begins to stir. In this realm of snow and ice
lives a great white bear. Slowly the bear awakened from his months long slumber
crawling out of his snowy Den. The sunshine hit his face, it made him happy,
not just happy but giddy as if he wanted to dance across the ice. But just as
fast as that feeling came upon him he thought to himself "you know it's
still cold here I could just go back to bed and sleep, I'm so depressed, I'm
hungry and cold." All the other Bears noticed his strange Behavior he
would be happy then sad and then happy again so they called him bipolar bear.
One day bipolar bear went hunting on
the ice, he was happy and enthusiastic, hungry, but not the kind of hunger that
is painful as when one has gone without food for a long time but a good kind of
hunger, the kind that stirred his primal urge for the hunt. He could smell the
seals sunning themselves on the ice. He drew closer stelthfully and pounced and
missed. Bipolar bear sat down on the ice and thought to himself I'm just going
to starve to death here now, I might as well just give up, it's not worth
trying to survive in this frozen wilderness. The next day however bipolar bear
woke up driven by hunger he tried again and this time success, the snow stained
blood red he satisfied his hunger with a delicious meal of seal meat.
On another day while the bear was
hunting on the pack ice he observed a disturbing fact. Every year the open water
between the patches of pack ice was getting wider and wider further for him to
swim, the sea was warming up little by little every year. Bipolar bear worried
he would not be able to swim the distance as he sat there on the ice thinking
again, "is it all worthwhile trying to survive in this changing
wilderness."
Just then he saw on the shoreline a
female bear she was beautiful, large and healthy, a furry thick coat of
gleaming white hair. He jumped into the water and swam and swam across the
great expanse of open water and finally made it to the shore. Walking toward
her across the tundra he thought to himself "wow we could have beautiful,
cute little fuzzy cubs together next season. It'll be so wonderful I'll help raise
them, teach them to hunt... Oh wait" he said to himself falling into deep
sadness “I’m a polar bear we don't hang around to care for the babies we leave
that up to the moms."
Sometime later during the bright
sunlit summer he was out walking across the tundra happy to be alive enjoying
the beauty of his world, visiting with his Polar Bear friends, just then he
heard an unfamiliar sound, the sound of an engine, it was a machine built by
man, a large tour bus fitted with huge flotation tires so it could travel
across the tundra and a sort of platform attached to it high above the ground
where the humans could stand on and gawk at him and his friends. It was filled
with tourists wanting to have the adventure of seeing the polar bears up close,
though they dare not leave the safety of the bus. Soon it stopped and the
humans were looking at them amused at their every antic, the bear thought to
himself are we just here for their amusement? Do they really care about our
well-being, will they worry about our part of the world after they leave. Just
once I'd like to see someone show some respect for us wild creatures, just once
I would not like to be called silly names.
However… there was an exception. A
cute little girl was watching him with great enthusiasm and she seemed to have
a genuine wonder and appreciation of nature in her eyes. That made bipolar bear
very very happy. He felt that life was worth living he was ecstatic about
someone showing interest in him. He sat there on the ground near the bus load
of tourists and thought to himself since that first day of spring I've had my
ups and downs maybe I've heard the last of the nickname Bipolar Bear. Within a
short time the bus was driving away he could see the little girl through the
window, she was waving at him with her little hand and somehow he knew what she
was saying either by intuition or that he had in some way learn to understand
human speech. She was saying "bye... bye... bye Polar bear."
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