geo (03/16/83)
I have submitted this parable to the net before, in a different context. This is a true story. For you to fully appreciate this story you must realize that Venezuala is a \very/ Catholic country. (My parents risked extremely serious punishment for smuggling in birth control paraphenalia for their personal use.) My parents met, and were married while working for Dutch Imperial Shell Multinational Oil Company in Venezuala. The base were they worked was quite large, and there was a large number of European and North Americans stationed there. Shell provided these employees with extra perks. Married employees were provided with a North American bungalow, and a Venezualan maid. Shell provided a company doctor, a school teacher (my mother), and a company store. The company store provided subsidized North American consumer goods, and foods that weren't normally available in Venezuala. Potatoes are not normally available in Venezuala. Well my mother taught Dahlia, the maid how to prepare some of the North American foods. My mother taught Dahlia how to prepare baked potatoes. As you my know, you must pierce the skin of baked potatoes to allow the steam to escape, otherwise there is a danger that they might explode. Some people pierce the skin with a fork. In my family we put an "X" in the skin -- no particular reason, it is just the way we were taught, and that is how my mother taught Dahlia. One day there was a "boom" in the kitchen. My mother rushed in to see what was wrong. The kitchen was plastered with little bits of baked potatoe! The maid was weeping hysterically, "Senhora(sp?), Senhora, Senhora, I am so sorry!" When my mother got Dahlia calmed down, she said, "Oh Senhora, I am so sorry. When you taught me mark each Potatoe with a cross, I realized how religious you were, but I was in such a hurry, and I thought just this once, God wouldn't mind!" Cordially, Geo Swan, Integrated Studies, University of Waterloo (allegra|decvax) !watmath!watarts!geo