Mystery Monk sighed.
it had been a niggley sort of day.
It was as if his halo had well and truly slipped!
He had tried so hard to get everything right,
then he had glared when someone irritated him,
and moaned about someone else,
and been late for an appointment cos he mislaid a piece of paper
and then everything fell off his desk,
and he left the milk out and it smelt funny,
then he left a trail of coffee across the hall and while he was clearing it up a fly committed suicide in his drink
and then he knocked over his drink
trying to flick the fly out of his drink
and it splashed on his new book
and...
and...
and...
sigh!
"Stop fretting young monk!" advised the Abbot, who had watched most of this drama from his study window.
"The more you get wound up, the more things will go wrong!
Go and sit in the garden by the pool, and watch the water, and let God soothe your soul."