What is a Noodle?
“What is a Noodle?” the young boy asked.
“Well, a Noodle is a word,” the wise old Crone, who was his mother, informed him.
“Okay, but what is it?” he asked again.
“It depends on how you use the word, Noodle!” She laughed and tweaked the end of his nose. He smiled his big, goofy grin. His freckles danced on his face.
“C’mon, mom! Just tell me so I will know! I want to know!”
“Alright, if you must,” she replied. “Sit down and let me tell you all about why I named you Noodle.”
The two sat down and the wise, old mother began to tell her son all about Noodles.
“First, I named you Noodle because you are brilliant and have noodles in your noggin. Your brain looks like a bunch of big thick macaroni noodles and is very creative and imaginative, just like you!”
“But, the kids make fun of me and tell me I am stupid!” Her son exclaimed.
“Don’t listen to them. Listen to me, for I am your very wise, and very creative mother. I am called an old Crone…do you know what that means?” She looked straight into her son’s eyes and saw eternity.
“No.”
“It means I have arrived. I have arrived to my third stage of life. I was first a young maiden with golden-red hair, and the kids at school called me a witch, then I became a mother who washed dishes with dishwater blonde hair, and I was called other names. Now I am a bwitch with rich copper hair and I am wiser than many might believe.” She cupped her son’s chin in her hand, “You are a young man who I named Noodle for a purpose. You are a lot like me.”
“What do you mean? How am I a lot like you?” Noodle’s eyes widened as he looked at his mother.
“Let me see your hand.”
She took Noodle’s hand in hers and examined his palm and his fingers.
“Yep. Just as I thought,” she concluded. “Let me tell you five Fairy Tales about who we are, and why we are both so wise. We both have Noodle brains, we both love Noodles, and we both love to eat all sorts of Noodles and can’t get enough…almost like the Fire-eaters!”
“The Fire-eaters? Who are the Fire-eaters?”
“Well, a long time ago there was a boy who grew up to have the biggest head in the world. He ate up knowledge and couldn’t get enough of it. He gathered every bit of knowledge from every corner of the round earth as he could find. Everyone thought he was just like Jesus, Buddha, and God all rolled into one. They said he was the wisest man that ever lived. They even called him a Sage.”
“Really? Is that me?” asked Noodle.
“No, you are much wiser than just a mere Sage!” replied the old Crone.“This very wise man decided he needed to find himself a wife just as wise as himself, so they could bring an entire race of wise and intelligent humans into the world. So he waited for such a woman, and then finally discovered one! She was given all the wisdom that could be found in the four seasons of the earth, the four winds, and the four quarters of Heaven. She even knew about the four quarters found in a paper dollar bill!”
“Wow! She must have been wise, indeed! Was she beautiful?” inquired Noodle. Noodle smiled at his aging mother. She winked at him.
“Some people have said as much,” she chuckled. “Anyhow, he found her living in a small village near the ocean. They were married and soon began repopulating the earth with a wonderful race of intelligent humans….but, they produced their last child who others believed to be a simpleton.”
“Really? Was he a slow learner?” Noodle was deep in thought. Some kids at school had teased him about not being a fast learner. Sometimes, Noodle struggled with math and reading. Sometimes, Noodle didn’t know how smart and loving and wise he really was.
“Some people thought so,” replied his mother. “But, then again, some people have said the same thing about me, and guess what?”
“What?”
“I don’t listen to them. They are ignorant and don’t understand wisdom, noodles, fire and fire-eaters like you and I do, Noodle,” she sighed then smiled. “Hey, would you like some spaghetti for lunch? Let me put some water to boil over the fire and fix you some brain food!”
“That sounds yummy! I like spaghetti!” Noodle smiled. “Especially with meatballs and Parmesan cheese! It looks like snow on a mountain with a bunch of red lava all over the place!”
“Yep! I agree,” the old Crone ruffled his red hair. “You are definitely a Noodle, just like I thought when I named you. I bet you can’t get enough spaghetti, huh? Did you know that spaghetti is also a type of Noodle? So are your brains, and your body is just like a Noodle…I mean look at your fingers. They are like wiggly little noodles attached to a great big Noodle! Your arms and legs are like noodles attached to a great big Noodle….and when you get older you will discover other parts of your body that are just like a noodle attached to a noodle attached to my darling Noodle! You are an amazing Noodle like none other and don’t let anyone ever convince you otherwise, alright?”
“Alright…but what else is a Noodle?” Noodle wanted to know all about every kind of Noodle there was. His brain was definitely a Noodle brain.
“Well, some people call tubular shapes Noodles, like the kind that can help you float in water. Anything long and round can be called a Noodle of sorts,” she wisely responded. “If you can swim all on your own, you are your own Noodle.”
“I want to learn how to swim all on my own!” Noodle’s face lit up. “I want to be the best Noodle I can be so I don’t have to always rely on other types of noodles!”
“Well, I helped your father learn to swim all on his own. He was a bit of a simpleton and needed a lot of help. He was wise in some areas, but not in others. However, he also wanted to improve himself so he could be the best father he could be, so I helped him. Maybe, I can teach you how to swim as well someday, if your father is neglectful of his duties and of passing down his survival skills. My own mom and dad had good Noodles and taught me to swim on my own, so I wouldn’t drown. They also taught me all about Fire-eaters and how to be careful when blowing on flames.”
“So, can you tell me about the Five Fairy Tales while we eat lunch?”
“Certainly. But, you will have to be patient. It takes time to rebuild bridges and retell stories that were fed to the Fire-eaters a long time ago. The Fire-eaters consume as many stories as they can, as fast as they can. They don’t mean to, it is just what they do…kind of like how fast you can finish a plate of spaghetti noodles!”
Noodle smiled at his mom. She smiled back. They both winked at each other.
“Thanks mom, for being so wise and loving. I love you!”
“Thanks son, for being so loving and wise. Sometimes, being loving is better than just being wise or intelligent. There’s a big difference between being loving, being wise, and being intelligent. The greatest gift of all is being you. Noodles are always all three!”
