Short Bursts of Humour by Sharon Espeseth

A merry heart does good, like medicine
Proverbs 17:22

We are surrounded by them. We share them every day. They break up tension and they are publishable. An anecdote, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is "a usually short narrative of an interesting, amusing, or biographical incident." My husband, Hank, tells these kinds of stories.

My dad, Ernie, was also a master of this oral tradition. He told anecdotes about his grandchildren and about the characters among his coffee buddies, neighbours, and fellow church-goers.

Take "Roughbox," for example. One day, Dad's undertaker friend Elmer, known as Roughbox, had to transport two deceased persons from the small town where he lived to another, bigger town where the funeral was to take place. The vehicle Roughbox used as hearse had room for only one body in the back, so he propped up the second one in the passenger seat and drove to the funeral home. 

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I included some of Dad's anecdotes in a story called, "Dad the Storyteller," which may some day be included in a memoir.

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Anecdotes are like short bursts of humour. You tell a short-short story with a surprise or comical ending. Keep your ears tuned and you'll find these stories close by--even in your own home. Both Hank and "Ernie" are good sources  for material and I've gleaned a few of my own.

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Here's one that appeared in Christian Reader, Sept./Oct. 1999 and later in an anthology, Help, I Can't Stop Laughing. Zondervan: Grand Rapids, Michigan, 2006.

My five-year-old nephew, Carman, known to be a picky eater, was at my parents' place for dinner. Dad's rule was that you must taste a little of everything on you plate. Looking at his food, Carman asked, "Grandpa, would it be okay if I asked God to help me with my dinner.?"

Never wanting to discourage his grandchildren's faith, Dad agreed. Carman bowed his head and silently prayed. He then divided up the food on his plate and ate what he liked. "What about the rest?"  Dad asked. "That's God's part," Carman replied.

I think there's a lesson in this story for each of us. When life is going well, we take charge. Then, when life gets rough, we say, "Now I need God's help!"

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The story below was also in the anthology, Help, I Can't Stop Laughing, as mentioned above.

Pinterest Free Image

At the spring wedding of an older couple, my parents waited with the rest of the guests for the celebration to begin. The church organist played through her entire repertoire of wedding songs, but nothing happened. Not wanting to repeat herself, she continued with Easter hymns in keeping with the season. Soon the door to the pastor's study opened. A shaky, ashen groom appeared just as the organist completed the first line of "Up from the Grave He Arose."


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Here's one of my mini-stories that was published in "Life's Like That" in Readers Digest, June 2009.

"Are you eating meat these days," my husband asked our niece, an occasional vegetarian, as we prepared for her visit, "or should we sacrifice a head of lettuce?"

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One of my anecdotes was published in "Kids say the cutest things!" in Woman's World on January 4, 2005. They still publish this column, which is now called,  "Kids are funny!" (Check WW's complete writing guidelines for other writing opportunities.) But here's my anecdote, tightened up a bit from their publication.

My sister had been trying to quit smoking and our kids were eager to help her. One day after school, our daughter Jenny burst through the front door with news about how Auntie Joan could quit smoking. "How?" I asked. "By eating cold turkey," Jenny confidently replied. 

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Ecclesiastes 3, as translated in The Message, begins, "There's an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

The name Isaac in Hebrew means "He laughs." (Pinterest)

In verse 3 and 4, we continue this sentence with-- 

A right time to cry and another to laugh,
A right time to lament and another to cheer. . .

Let's cheer one another with good stories that bring joy and cause us to laugh--like Sarah. When God delivered on his promise that she was going to have a baby in her old age, Sarah recognized that God has a sense of humour. (Genesis 21:6) The name Isaac means "He laughs" in Hebrew.

Make a Joyful Noise by Karma Pratt

In our house, we are in a season of living, learning and growing. Everyone is stretching beyond themselves and everyday there are new opportunities to learn something new. This is the incredible blessing of school aged children. They are students and teachers all rolled into one. Of course, not every moment is sunshine and roses. We have many instances of frustration. Angry tears can be just as common as joyful laughter. Overall, though, we are learning to live in the light of thanksgiving. 

My family's sense of fun has informed my writing. Learning to laugh in the moment helps me remember to be present in the everyday. Focusing on one thing at a time helps me set boundaries so that I don't fall down the rabbit hole of multitasking mania. Embracing joy has allowed me to step back from busyness and choose purposeful interactions and connection instead. 

Life is busy, there's no doubt, but I read recently that, “A day is a pocket of possibility and it’s always there, waiting for your willing hand.” - Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way: A Daring Path into the Abundant Life

I am learning how to lean into the joy, how to exchange it for piled up deadlines and pressure that won't stop squeezing. I am learning that the pressures I feel are self-imposed, and the joy I experience comes from learning to let go of the pressure. I am learning that saying, "Yes!" to fun in the sun and backyard playtime allows me to say, "Yes!" to God emphatically and passionately.

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. Proverbs 17:22 ESV

The love and laughter in our home is the good medicine that allows me to dig into my writing in new ways. Places that I was leery to explore before, are now opening up as new light shines into dark corners. I will likely never be a fiction writer. (would that it were!) Instead, my path is moving in the direction of non-fiction, memoir and poetry. All the joyful interactions in this current season remind me of how far I've come, and what I have to share through words. 

The Apostle Paul ended his letter to the Philippians with this prayer: "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit" (Philippians 4:23). Joy, love and laughter are entry points into God's grace. What a gift!

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Karma writes from the golden house in Northeastern BC. You can connect with her online at redraincoatcreations.com

The Magic of Laughter by Sandi Somers

 “A cheerful heart is good medicine.” Proverbs 17:22 (NIV)

“…for the happy heart, life is a continual feast.” Proverbs 15:15 (NLT)

This month we're adding a little humour, asking our writers focus on the lighter side of their writing life.

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The following is a true story, written during my days as a Teacher Librarian. I’ve changed a couple details to disguise the boys’ identities. And although I wrote it in the form of a fairy tale, I saw the hand of God working in the “coincidental” details.

A Tale of Two Shoes

Part 1: Natif

          Once upon a time a boy named Natif came to our school and joined our Grade Two class. He was new to Canada, having just immigrated with his family. One October day we had a heavy wet snowfall. This was the first snow Natif had seen.

 I was was on supervision in the school’s entryway as Natif returned for the afternoon class. Wet, large snowflakes clung to his black hair and jacket, and he scrunched his body and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm.

          “How do you like the snow, Natif?” I asked.

          “No like!” he said as he stomped his feet to clear snow off his running shoes.

          “Natif, you have new outdoor running shoes,” I said. “They’re nice black and white ones.” He smiled proudly as he took them off, set them on the rack and left for his classroom.

          Snow kept falling all afternoon.

Part 2: Grant

          Now in the same school was a ten-year-old boy, Grant, from the Special Ed class. At 3:15, the bell rang to dismiss the students. Quickly the school emptied, and even most of the teachers went home early to avoid rush hour traffic tie-ups. Because I lived close, I wasn’t worried about my five-minute commute, and so stayed to finish up loose ends.

          I heard footsteps approach the library where I was working: clunk, step; clunk, step; clunk step. Grant arrived, one large running shoe on one foot, one sock on the other foot. “I can’t find my other outdoor running shoe!” he said, “Where’s my shoe? I can’t go home until I find my running shoe!”

I hugged him. “You wore it to school,” I said, “so it’s got to be around here somewhere.”

We searched his classroom. “Where’s my shoe? What happened to my running shoe?” he asked again, more to himself than to me.

We searched my library where he had had a class earlier that afternoon. No shoe. We searched through the lost and found box, turning over all the gloves and shoes and boots and sweaters. No shoe. We searched again—carefully—his classroom. No shoe. We searched everywhere but could find no running shoe.

          “But there’s another one…” Grant said, leading me to the student entry way. He picked up a black and white running shoe, exactly like his, but much smaller. And much newer. “I tried it on,” he said, “but it didn’t fit. I can’t even get my foot in! Where’s my other running shoe?”

Part 3: The fairy godmother

         Just then the fairy godmother appeared and waved her wand, sprinkling fairy dust over me. At once I made a connection. I had seen smaller running shoes just like Grant’s that noon. Natif’s! He must have picked up Grant’s shoe and gone home in the snow, one small shoe and one large shoe. Swish step, swish step, swish step.

          I phoned Natif’s home. His older brother Ali answered. “Has Natif come home yet?” I asked slowly, as Ali wasn’t fluent in English yet.

          There was a long pause, then Ali said, “Yes, he home. Why?”

          “Can you check his running shoes? Are the two shoes the same?”

I waited.

          He was laughing when he picked up the phone. “Same shoes. One little, one big. And big one old!” Sure enough, Natif had gone home with Grant’s other shoe—and he hadn’t even noticed. He quickly returned to school, and the boys switched running shoes.

          The two boys left: Step, step; step, step; step, step

And so we all went home and lived happily ever after.

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          It was a delight to experience and write this story, and I still have tender images of Grant, the perplexed boy who couldn’t find his running shoe.

Now over to you. Tell about a humourous incident that happened in relation to your writing life, or one you wrote about. Alternatively, tell about how you use humour in your writing.