The Big Squeeze



A restaurant that had risen to fame,
Claimed fresh squeezed lemonade made its name.
The prep cook bled the lemon of all its juice,
His hands forcing the lemon to turn it loose.
He squeezed the lemon and would not stop,
Until it was dry of every drop.

He threw out a challenge to anyone,
If they could squeeze out a drop, when he was done,
A hundred bucks to the one, who could squeeze a drop
Of the juice of the lemon when he would stop.

For years customers took the lemon test
But always failed, though they did their best.
Then a tiny bespectacled man stopped in.
In a voice pitched high, he said with a grin,
“I’ll take the challenge if you agree.
I’ll win and then collect– you’ll see!”

He took the lemon and squeezed, hands dainty and small.
They all watched with interest for the drops to fall.
The prep cook smiled certain failure he knew,
Then one drop fell and the momentum grew.
A puddle began to form on the counter-top.
Then with one last squeeze, he was ready to stop.

The prep cook asked, “What do you do with hands so strong,
What kind of work and for how long?”
They plied him with questions and continued to guess:
Then he told them he worked for the IRS.

Poetry by Pat Mullins/August 2001
Story taken from God’s Little Devotional Book For the workplace
Honor Books, Tulsa, Oklahoma

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