Dealing With Death

Once there was a poor old woman who lived in a cottage by the sea. She worked all day and she worked all night mending nets, and her brave bold boy went out on the boat, and caught enough fish to both feed him and his mother and still have enough left over to sell the rest at market.

Well, one fine day, the son came back in from doing his fishing, and he began unexpectedly, to cry and rave, for he said, "Mother, oh mother, I have seen a terrible thing. I have seen death coming across the water to me, with his arms outstretched, as if to take me in his arms and carry me away. And I knew then that if I go out on the boat again, it shall sink, and I shall drown, for I cannot swim." And with that, the young man, so formerly bold, sank to his knees and began to weep inconsolably.

Well, the old mother was quite taken aback by this, but said, "There, there, my precious. You must go back out on the boat again, for, if you do not, we should not have anything to eat, or any fish to sell at market, and we should both starve and perish! But, I tell you, when Death comes calling for you, I'll send him packing. And I'll do it not once, not twice, but thrice I'll wager!"

And so the son, a dutiful if somewhat slow-headed lad, did as he was told, and went out on the boat again before sunrise. Sure enough, Death came calling across the water, walking toward him with his arms outstretched, as if carrying a babe, telling him, "Come to me, come to me, my little lad! Come and find peace, and, solace, and eternal rest from your weary labors!

And the son answered, "Faugh! Get the hence unclean spirit! For my mother has promised to send you packing, not once, not twice, but thrice!" And with that, Death was so enraged, he raced back across the water and disappeared.

Well, this was not the end of it, as you might have imagined. For, soon, Death returned, and this time, he threatened and raged, stamped his feet in the sea, and held his hands up to heaven, proclaiming, "I'll get you! I'll get you I swear, before all the kings and princes who ever sat upon a throne in this sad, sad world!" And he waved his arms, and a wind arose a mighty gale, and it rocked the boat upon the water until the son began to fear that his boat would capsize. But, boldly, he said, "Begone Death, for you shall not take me just yet. For, you see, my mother has sworn to send you packing, not once, not twice, but thrice!"

And with that, Death reared his ugly, skull-like head, roared to the heavens, cursed at the sky, made a foul gesture with his fingers, and ran back across the water. The boat indeed did capsize, and the son, clutching a piece of driftwood, made it miraculously back to the shore.

Well, he went back to the hovel he shared with his mother, and said, "Mother, mother! I cannot go back to the boat, for it has capsized, and is now sunken beneath the water!"

And his mother, knowing this to be true, spat, swore, and cursed, and then began to laugh.

She held her hands above her head and said, "You see! You see! I told you I would send Death packing, and, my son I have done just that. Not once, but twice, as I so promised! Now, Death will come calling for you, I'll wager, saying it is unfair to let you slip away so easily. And when he comes here knocking, I'll do just as I promised, and send him away three times!"

And with that, she lifted her skirts and danced around, and made merry.

Well, sure enough, it was not long before Death, dripping wet with seawater, and roused with anger to the point of madness, came knocking at the door. Knowing immediately who it was, the old woman went and flung the door open wide, and invited Death inside. And she pointed her finger at him, and she said, "You see! You see! I told my poor, poor son that I would send you packing not once, not twice, but THRICE! And so I have, and so I will now! You can see that my boy is safe and sound now here on dry land, so you can go ahead and leave! Go on!"

And the old woman raised her apron as if to shoo Death away. But the hideous Death just cracked a huge grin and replied, "Okay old woman, I see you mean business. But, so do I! You see, I admit, you swore that you would send me packing not once, not twice, but thrice! But, be that as it may, you didn't say you would send me away the third time empty-handed!"

And with that, the old woman suddenly got a horrified look on her face as her skin turned as white as a winding shroud and she fell over, stone dead.

And the moral of this story is: In the end, Death is never cheated, and Death is never fair.