Long ago in a land far away, there was a happy band of people. They loved their land, loved the people they served, and toiled each day at a task that made them feel worthwhile and joyful.
They were masters of accommodation; being all things to all people.
These masters of accommodation knew the land and its people like no other; its hills, its valleys, the caves in which to hide, and the open fields where they could soak the sun’s rays.
They were helpful, hopeful, hop-to-its who never failed, always came through, gave much and demanded little. They were teachers, fortune tellers, mentors, and nurse-maids; they could work miracles, find the lost, feed the hungry, and fix the misfortunes of the failed.
And the people loved them.
And the land was happy.
Then, there came an evil princess.
She was jealous of theses masters of accommodation.
Mandating a meeting of her minions, the princess declared, “Something must be done. These masters of accommodation have too much fun, too much joy, too much power. They do to much for others. They must be stopped.”
So into the land the minions flew, questions were asked, meetings were held, brainstorming boomed.
“What do they do that the people love them so?”, asked the foolish followers of the evil princess. “How can they make the people so happy; how did this happen, this power, this joy?”
Shaking with fear, the weak ones cried, “Oh, it is not so, it cannot be, they aren’t so grand, they aren’t so brave, they don’t help me. I can do this and I can do that, I find my way each and every day.”
Loving the lies and lapping UP the lore, no one asked those who knew more. The masters of accommodation were completely ignored, knew nothing, were blind, and went on being kind.
So off to the castle the minions flew, armed with the lies of a chosen few. The princess was pleased with the news that they brought, and felt joy in the fact that her efforts would not be for naught.
Sessions were held, the coven was called, the young and the old the short and the bald gladly gave UP the lay of the land, and all was to go according to plan.
Back in the land all was well, the rumors appeared, and then began to swell. The masters of accommodation huddled in fear, knowing the end of their joy was near.
And on a day least expected the hammer did fall; no mail, no message, no call, no hint – no, nothing at all.
A flurry, a fluster, flashing and fighting; what goes, what stays, who helps, who hides?
There were some who cried, “Why is this so?”, they knew it was done, and some things must go.
As darkness crept in on that warm summer eve, the landscape was ravaged, the air not so fresh, the masters of accommodation were wounded in the flesh.
Back in her palace the princess was pleased, she’d stopped these masters, and that was her need. She cackled and crowed, the minions cowered at her screed!
But, hope springs eternal in the land far and wide, they are waiting, and watching, some continue to hide. The cries of displeasure are heard day to day, but really the people know not what to say.
Yes, hope springs eternal in the land far and wide. Princesses come and go, workers roll with the tide. The masters of accommodation, though battered and bruised, are helping and hoping and hopping as they usually do.