There was a painter named Wayne who was
very interested
in making a penny where he could, so he often
thinned
down his paint to make it go a wee bit further.
As
it happened, he got away with this for some time,
but
eventually the
Baptist
Church
decided to do a big restoration
job on one of their biggest buildings.
Wayne put in a bid, and, because his
price was so low, he got the job.
So
he set about erecting the scaffolding and setting up
the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, I am
sorry to say, thinning it down with turpentine.
Well, Wayne was up on the
scaffolding, painting away, the
job nearly completed, when
suddenly there was a
horrendous clap of thunder,
the sky opened, and the
rain poured down washing the
thinned paint from all
over the church and knocking
Wayne clear off the
scaffold to land on the lawn
among the gravestones,
surrounded
by
telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint.
Wayne
was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from
the
Almighty,
so he got down on his knees and cried:
"Oh, God, forgive me; what should I do?"
And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke...

"Repaint! Repaint!
And thin
no more!"