I pre-planned this whimsical Dr. Seuss-style retelling of the Exodus story before the current shooting tragedy in Texas. I earnestly pray that it will do what humor can sometimes do: draw us together, help us cope, and remind us that one day, “God will wipe away every tear, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for those things will have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)
Now, down in old Eejip where Fayro was king,
A fellow named Mo did a wonderful thing.
There were Heebrooz and Sheebrooz all over the place,
And that put a frown on old Fayroze’s face.
So he did some upsetting to stop all their smiles,
But they just kept begetting. They stretched out for miles!
Then Mo said, “Hey, Fayro, you’re mean and you’re rotten.
What God’s gonna do—well, it won’t be forgotten!”
Sure enough, God got angry and took ‘em away.
Then Fayro got mad too, and yelled, “Ogla-hey!”
Which was Jipchin for, “I’m gonna hurt you so bad
You’ll wish you were one kid your mom never had!”
’Cause that’s the way Jipchins and most people get.
When they don’t get their way, they don’t like it a bit!
Now, ‘Ro was so mad that he followed ‘em all,
Little ones, big ones, short types and tall.
Then he backed ’em all up at the sea that was red,
And said, “Now you’ll wish that you really were dead!
But Mo took his big stick, and raising it high,
Said, “God, now would be a great time to drop by!”
And God, who was there all along anyway,
Picked up that old sea and just threw it away!
Then Fayro said, “Go soldiers, go on and get ’em!”
And the soldiers they tried, but the sea up and et ’em!
Then the Heebrooz and Sheebrooz of Izree-a-lee
Said God was the best god they ever did see.
They partied and stayed up ’til way, way past eight,
Celebratin’ their save from a Fayro-ish fate.
But before very long they got thirsty and cranky,
And started to grumble, ‘specially one guy named Spanky.
Then the people got hungry, in fact they were starved.
They were dreaming of roasted quail perfectly carved,
And freshly baked bread, right off of the shelf,
And hoping Jehovah would bake it Himself.
Sure enough, when the night came, a Heebroo named Ralph
Was struck in the mouth by a quail flying south.
Then one after one they came flying in,
Soon quails were in stewpots and frying in tins.
To be continued..