the parable of the prodigal car

There was a man who had one son -- and a car.

This is a parable about the car, not the son. I think you all know how prodigal sons end up in parables.

The car said to the father, "Give me a sizeable share of your estate. You have neen letting me fall apart. I want to venture to the land where gringas have their grills lifted and their fenders tucked. I want to be Passionella in The Apple Tree."
So, the father gave the car a share of the estate and watched it roll away to the flesh pots. The car began with a little grill work. But beauty is addictive. Then it was new fenders. New headlights. New paint. Until, the car had squandered everything the father had given it.

The car longed to return to its cozy little garage. "I am gorgoeus, but who gets to see me. I am inmate in a body shop."

So, he rolled out of the shop to return to the father.

While he was still a long way off -- well, a block away -- the father saw the car and was filled with compassion for it. He ran to his car, threw his arms around it, and kissed it. Not really. But he was pleased to see the return of the prodigal car.

The car said: "Father I have sinned  against heaven and against you. I am absolutely gorgeous, but I am no longer worthy to be called your car."

But the father said to his staff, "Quick! Put the car in its garage where we can see just how gorgreous it has become."

The household celebrated what once had been lost and now was found.

And the car was not just being dramatic, it truly was gorgeous.


Note -- If that reference to The Apple Tree is a bit arcane, here is the charming Barabara Harris to explain everything.