An elderly woman named Mildred was the self-appointed moral guardian of her small-town church.
She made it her business to know everyone’s business.
One day, she told everyone that George, a quiet man who rarely spoke, was an alcoholic.
“Why would you say that?” the pastor asked.
“Because I saw his truck parked outside the bar last night. That’s all the proof I need!”
George didn’t say a word. He just stared at her.
The next evening, George parked his truck outside Mildred’s house and walked home.
One day, Mrs. Jones went to talk to the minister at the local church.
One day, Mrs. Jones went to talk to the minister at the local church.
“Reverend,” she said, “I have a problem. My husband keeps falling asleep during your sermons. It’s very embarrassing. What should I do?”
The minister thought for a moment and said, “I have an idea. Take this hatpin with you. I’ll watch for when Mr. Jones is dozing off, and I’ll motion to you. When I do, you give him a little poke in the leg.”
The following Sunday, Mrs. Jones brought the hatpin to church. Sure enough, during the sermon, Mr. Jones started to nod off. The minister noticed and said, “And who made the ultimate sacrifice for you?” He nodded toward Mrs. Jones.
“Jesus!” Mr. Jones cried, waking up as his wife poked him with the hatpin.
“Yes, you’re right, Mr. Jones,” said the minister. But soon after, Mr. Jones dozed off again. The minister asked, “Who is your redeemer?” and motioned toward Mrs. Jones.
“God!” Mr. Jones yelled out, again getting poked in the leg.
“Right again!” said the minister. But before long, Mr. Jones fell asleep again. This time, the minister didn’t notice, and he picked up the pace of his sermon, making some gestures that Mrs. Jones mistook for signals to poke her husband.
The minister asked, “What did Eve say to Adam after she bore him his 99th son?”
Mrs. Jones poked Mr. Jones again, and he woke up, shouting, “If you poke me with that thing one more time, I’ll snap it in half and make you regret it!”
“Amen!” the congregation replied in unison.