Helpful Helen couldn’t help it; she loved to lend people a helping hand. Ever since she was ushered past the threshold of adolescence and into the wide-open meadows of adulthood she saw rainbow skies and butterfly dreams and dolphin smiles.
The fluffy cloud she floated on had more than its fair share of silver lining and she gambolled and frolicked like a manic cheerleader with her goody-two-shoes laced firmly on her light feet.
She was filled with so much optimism it was dripping out of her ears. She didn’t just build castles in the air, she built entire cities – with embankments of ebullience and great walls of cheer.
She felt so good inside that she wanted to help people. She promptly set about doing so like a possessed Pollyanna.
People felt they had to drill many a Californian Redwood tree to find a sap like her, but their cynicism didn’t put her off. With all the curiosity of a tiny tot Thomson’s gazelle she sought new and novel ways to help people.
If there was a birthday party to attend she’d bake bright side of life cookies and sunny side of the street chocolate cakes.
If someone was ill it was not unknown for her to take them giant bouquets of flowers wrapped in merry ribbons and buoyant bows.
Her goodness could have even tested the patience of a modern Job and her milk of kindness made people lactose intolerant, but she carried on regardless, driven by the desire to give.
She was so giving that she gave not only her right arm but left foot and kidney as well. If someone had lost his bearings she helped him find them. If they had lost the plot she wrote them a new one. And if they had lost their marbles she gave them yo-yos instead. She didn’t just give them the shirt off her back, she gave them her nylon stockings and Burberry silk underwear as well.
She saw herself as manna from heaven and honey dew in the wind. She was the Good Samaritan who not only showed the Jew the way to the inn, but took him upstairs, tucked him into bed and sang a lullaby.
One day as she was making her merry month of May way to the Happy Clappy store to stock up on some golden starlight and silver moon beams when she was taken by surprise by a pair of dismal eyes.
The gentleman in question had had enough of existence and was tottering on the bridge over troubled waters inches away from a long drop into the eternal abyss. One too many bogeymen had leapt out at him from the closet of life and he was tired and ready to end it all. He stood with his back to her ready to jump.
When she saw him Helen’s eyes lit up and her spirits soared to new and as yet undiscovered heights of cotton candy cheer. Here was a soul who desperately needed her help. She ran to him and said, “No wait, don’t jump; allow me to help you.” She took him by the arm and shoved him firmly, helping him head first to a tumbling death.
