Hijo De La Liberta

“The Week of Sundays” from The Book of Virtues

By William J. Bennett


In this old tale we see the difference between idle time, which we steal, and leisure time, which we earn. The truth is that people who never have anything to do are usually the most dissatisfied because they are the most bored. Our leisure time, on the other hand, we enjoy largely because we’ve put plenty ofwork behind us to get it.

Once upon a time there was a man named Bobby O’Brien who never did a stitch of work in his life unless he absolutely had to.


“Come now, Bobby,” his friends used to say, “what’s so wrong with a little hard work? You’d think it was the black plague itself, the way you guard yourself against it.”


“My friends, I have no mo against work than the nextman,” Bobby would reply. “In fact, nothing fascinates me more than work. I can sit here and watch it all day, if you’ll only give me the chance.”

And of course, he was perfectly useless around the house.

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, now?” his wife, Katie, moaned one afternoon. “A fine example you’re setting for the children! Do you want them to grow up to be lazy slugs too?”“It’s Sunday, my dear, the day of rest,” Bobby pointed out. “Now why would you wan to disturbing it? If you want my opinion, it’s the only day out of the whole week worth getting out of bed for. The only problem with Sunday is that as soon it’s over, the rest of the week starts up again.” Bobby was a great philosopher, having so much time on his hands.

That very night the whole family was sittingaround the fire, waiting for their soup to boil, when what should they hear but a tap-tap-tap at the window. Bobby strolled over and raised the sash, and into the room hopped a little man no bigger than a strutting rooster.

“I was just passing by,” the wee man said, “and smelled something good and strong, and thought I might have a bite to eat.”

“You’re welcome to as much as you want,”Bobby said, thinking that such a little man couldn’t possibly hold more than a spoonful or two. So the tiny fellow sat down at the fireside, but no sooner had Katie given him a steaming bowl than he slurped it down and asked for another. Katie gave him seconds, and he swallowed that one faster than the first. She gave him thirds, and he drained the bowl almost before she had filled it up.“What a little pig,” Bobby thought to himself. “He’ll have all our suppers, before he’s through. Still, I asked him in, and he is our guest, so we must hold our tongues.”

After five or six bowl the little man sacked his lips ad jumped off his stool.

“It’s most kind you’ve been,” he laughed. “A more hospitable family I’ve never met. Now I must be on my way, but as way of thinks I’ll be morethan happy to grant the next wish uttered aloud beneath this roof.” And with that he hopped through the window and vanished into the night.

Well, everyone wanted to wish for something different. One child wanted a bag of sweets, and the other child wanted a box of toys. Katie thought a new bed would be nice, as the old one was showing signs of collapse. Bobby could name a dozen or sothings he’d like to have, right off the top of his head, perhaps a new fishing pole, or maybe a chocolate cake.

“We need more time to think it over,” he declared. “The trouble is, tomorrow’s Monday morning, and there’ll be work and chores to get in the way of our thinking. I wish we had a week of Sundays, and then we could take our time and figure it out.”

“Now you’ve done it!” Katie cried.“You’ve gone and wasted our only wish on a week of Sundays! You might have wished for a few more brains in that thick head of yours before you opened your mouth for a wish like that!”

“Well, well, it’s not such a bad wish, you know,” said Bobby, who was just now realizing what he had done. “A week of Sundays will be a fine thing, after all. I’ve been needing a little rest, and this...