To what shall I compare this generation?
It is like unto a diner in a tough neighborhood. In order to keep his prices competitive, the chef limited his staff down to a single waitress, who also served as hostess, bus boy, cashier, bartender, and dishwasher.
She worked hard to make as many people as possible as happy as possible with their service. But some of the regulars didn't like the way the waitress mixed their drinks. A few complained that their food took so long to get to their table that it was cold. A couple others simply didn't like the waitress. There was something funny about her eyes, or maybe her teeth; or maybe it was the way she called everybody "honey."
One day a small group of customers took advantage of a moment when no one was looking. They quietly grabbed the waitress, hustled her out the front door, and stood guard on the stoop, making it clear by their attitude that she wasn't welcome to come back.
Back in the kitchen, the chef wondered why no one had come to claim the plates of food he had set up on the counter. The other customers, not having taken part in the waitress's ouster, wondered why their food was not being served. But what about those men guarding the door? Did they help the diner's business that day? Did they help passersby to feel welcome inside? Did they even help themselves?
Let him hear who has ears.
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