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Quite a few in the series, but this was how it ended.  It only makes sense if you know about the shovel.  Still my favourite somehow.

…

One day, God and the monkey were playing hide and seek.

I’m not very good at this, said the monkey.  You always win.

You’ll get better at it, said God.

What do You mean? asked the monkey.

You’ll see.  My turn.  Start counting.

One, one, one…  said the monkey.

And God disappeared.

I had forgotten that there were quite a few of these.  They came along fairly regularly for a while.  I won’t burden you with all of them, but this was a favourite for many people.

…

One day, God was sitting under the shade of a cool tree, when along came the monkey eating an orange.

Hello God, said the monkey, how are you today?

Fine, said God, who was always fine.  That looks good.

It’s an orange, said the monkey, looking like he was pretty sure that was the right answer.  I found it.

It’s a fruit, said God.

No, it’s an orange, said the monkey.  He took another big juicy bite. See?

It has a seed, said God.

I know, said the monkey, spitting one out looping high into the blue sky.  They fly.

God leaned back against the cool of the tree.  If you put one in the ground, He said, it will make another orange.

Really?

Yes, said God, who knew everything.

I would like another orange, said the monkey, taking one last big juicy bite and spitting out one last seed high into the air.

You could put it over there, said God, looking over at a particularly nice bit of sun.

I would like another orange here, said the monkey, poking his finger in the dirt.

What are you doing? asked God.

Looking for oranges, said the monkey, and he poked another finger in the dirt. and then again.

You’ll have to wait a while, and God leaned back further into the shade.

The monkey ran back along the path all the way to the top of the hill poking the ground as he went.  Maybe over here, said the monkey as he went over the hill and out of sight.

When it had been quiet for a while, God sat up in the shade and stretched.  Then He reached high into the tallest branches of the tree and pulled down a beautiful orange.  He admired it for a moment.  Then leaned forward and rolled the orange down the hill, where it came to rest on the path right where the monkey had been standing.

Then He leaned back in the cool of the shade, closed His eyes.

And God smiled.

I don’t know whether I’ve shared this with you before, it seems like these conversations began a lifetime ago.  I suppose it was.  So this is what a lifetime looks like.

…

One day, God was walking along the river admiring the colours of the leaves in the trees. Hello monkey, He said, and then He looked up.

Hello God, said the monkey, who was sitting in one of the tallest trees, holding a shovel.

My, that’s a lovely shovel, said God.

Do You really think so?

Yes, I do. But what are you doing with it in that tree? asked God, who already knew the answer, but wanted to see what the monkey would say.

I was going to dig a hole, said the monkey.

In the tree?

No, said the monkey, nodding his head for good effect.

In the ground? supplied God.

Probably, said the monkey.

Any place in particular?

Not really, said the monkey, trying to look helpful. But I knew if I ever wanted to dig a hole, a shovel would be a good thing to have. And it is a lovely shovel. He held it out for God to see.

I can see that, said God, who could see anything, even standing there beside the river. Is it your shovel?

Yes? asked the monkey.

Probably not, said God, who was wondering whether the monkey was really ready for this. Tell me, He asked, How many monkeys are there?

One, replied the monkey, confident.

Wrong, said God, as gently as only He could.

I knew that, said the monkey, I just couldn’t count any higher.

Maybe you’d better put that shovel back where you found it, said God.

And the monkey did.

And God saw that it was good.

…