If you'd like to listen to a sample story from the collection, just watch this video. And if you'd rather read for yourself, scroll down the page for another Psalm Story, or click here for a longer sample. I hope you'll enjoy them. I hope you'll enjoy them enough to download a free book tomorrow. And then I hope you'll enjoy them enough to think of collecting the set... well, except for the fact that I'm still writing numbers six, seven, eight and nine. Look out for Bethlehem's Baby, Nazareth Neighbors, Galilee's Gift and Jerusalem Journey coming from Cape Arago Press later this year!
So, here's a story inspired by the famous Yorkshire folk song, On Ilkley Moor 'Baht 'At (and by Psalm 49). I found a you-tube video below which will let you hear the song and see the scenery if you're interested. Or just scroll down and read...
~ 49 ~
Psalm 49:20 “A man who has riches without understanding is like the beasts that perish.”
The psalmist says he’s going to speak words of wisdom. Do you know anyone really wise? Maybe someone like the old man in this story?
Once there was a young man who lived on a farm with his grandfather. The grandfather worried about his grandson and tried to teach him to be careful. But the young man didn’t like to listen to advice.
One day the young man went out to walk on the moor. Grandpa looked all around the house before he realized the young man was missing. Then Grandpa looked in the coat closet and realized the young man had gone out without his hat. He was out on Ilkley Moor without his hat! (Grandpa had a thing about hats.)
“Where’ve you been since I saw you?” Grandpa asked when the young man came back.
“On Ilkley Moor,” said the young man.
“On Ilkley Moor ’baht ’at,” said Grandpa, because that’s how he talked. “You’ve been out on the moor without your hat. And now you’ll catch your death of cold.” The young man just ignored his grandfather and began to take off his coat and boots.
“We’ll have to bury you,” said Grandpa, “when you’ve caught your death of cold out on the moor without a hat.” The young man walked into the kitchen, where he could smell the dinner cooking.
“The worms’ll eat you,” said Grandpa, stirring the dinner. “The worms’ll eat you after we’ve buried you, after you’ve caught your death of cold, after you’ve been out on Ilkley Moor without your hat.” The young man laid the table.
“The ducks’ll eat the worms,” said Grandpa. “They’ll eat the worms that have eaten you, after we’ve buried you, after you’ve caught your death of cold, after you’ve been out on Ilkley Moor without your hat.” The young man started to serve dinner.
“We eat duck you know,” said Grandpa slowly. “We buy ’em in the store, or hunt for them. We eat duck. And ducks’ll eat the worms that have eaten you, after we’ve buried you, after you’ve caught your death of cold, after you’ve been out on Ilkley Moor without your hat.” The young man carried the plates to the table.
“And then we’ll have eaten you, young man,” said his grandfather. “We’ll have eaten you when we’ve eaten the duck that ate the worms that have eaten you, after we’ve buried you, after you’ve caught your death of cold, after you’ve been out on Ilkley Moor without your hat.”
Then Grandpa put the hat on the table, and the young man looked at the dinner. It was duck soup.
The young man didn’t really catch his death of cold. And the grandfather didn’t really know all the things that would happen next. It’s just an old song. But none of us, rich or poor, young or old, wise or foolish, really knows what’s in the future. Only God knows and, in the end, we just have to trust him. Let’s pray.
Lord God, please give us understanding.
We make our plans, but you know our future.
We dream our dreams, but you see what’s coming.
We hope for the best,
but you’ve promised better than the best we can imagine.
Please give us the understanding to follow you.