I rode my bicycle to the country store to get Mamaw some milk, and got to talking with Mr. Bernard. His name is Bernard Bernard, and that’s really the name his mama and daddy gave him. Now Mr. Bernard is a nice man, and he one of the bus drivers at the school, but he is always sick, and always something wrong with him, even if he is fit as a fiddle.

I said “Hi Mr. Bernard.”

“Well hey there young man, how you doing?” Mr. Bernard replied.

“Doing just fine, having to run some errands to the store for Mamaw. How you doing?” I asked back.

“Not too good boy, not too good. I’m down, down like a flat tire. Throwed my back out something awful the other day pitching hay for the cows, and I must’ve twisted my foot some while I was doing it. And that got me snuffling because you know I have the hay fever, and I am just stove up because I ran out of my allergy medicine the Dr. done give me. Plus I got a knot on my knee from last winter when I had one of them spells and just couldn’t go no more at that time. And that knee medicine always upsets my stomach.”

I nodded knowingly and asked how Ms. Bernard was.

“Well you know she ain’t been the same since she got laid off at the mill, no sir. She just mopes around, and she can’t hardly walk because of her back problems ya know? And she was working down to the nursing home, that’s her night job, and picked up one of them elderly patients the wrong way and really twisted her back out a lot. And you know she has them dizzy spells the Dr. can’t find. They don’t know what’s wrong with her. That was just like when her poor mama got the cancer, and they just sowed her right back up. Couldn’t even operate it was so bad.”

“Well how about young Charlie?” I asked, because its not polite to just walk away, even if someone is poor mouthing themselves, like Uncle Muddy calls it.

“Well Charlie’s not too good son, not too good. You know he likes to pitch horseshoes, he sure loves them horseshoe games, yessir. Well, him and his brother Thomas got a bad horseshoe that came apart, and his brother almost put his eye out when he threw it. And his brother fell while running for help and broke his arm.”

“Well, we will be praying for all y’all Mr. Bernard.” I left him with that and got my milk and rode home. While I was riding my bicycle back to the house, I got to thinking? Why does all that bad stuff just keep on happening bad to the Bernards? Seems like he don’t get one good day to live ever. He always has something wrong with him, either a bad tooth, a bad knee or he is pale for no reason.

I asked Uncle Muddy about him once I got back to the house. “Pete, I tell ya what’s wrong with that feller. He is a danged hypochondriac. He ain’t happy unless he is sick, or has something to moan about. I ain’t never seen the likes of that bunch of Bernards. You can’t ask for a nicer guy but I almost get sick every time I am around him he is so poor mouthed.”

Uncle Muddy went on: “He didn’t just get like this, no sir. When we was in school together and even when we was about to graduate, he missed graduation because he had a sick stomach and couldn’t come. He has been like this his whole life. He will probably get it put on his headstone;

“Here Lies Bernard Bernard – See? I told y’all I was sick!”

I don’t think I want to live like that at all. Mamaw says God – and the devil even – listens to what words come out of our mouth. I ain’t so sure about that, because I don’t know the Bible like she does, but I do know I always try to find stuff to be happy about. I am real glad that I never get sick. Maybe Mr. Bernard needs to find some stuff HE can be happy about too?