Introduction by Norman Jones

It was a night like most other nights. I retired to bed and was heavy in slumber, when I was awoken by a blinding light at the foot of my bed, brighter than a million suns. I shielded my eyes from the light and I could faintly make out a personage in glimmering robes and brilliant countenance. As the light faded, and my eyes adjusted, I made out a man, standing with his arms folded. I shook my head and blinked my eyes at the apparition. He majestically unfolded his arms and dramatically held out his hand, for within it was … a business card.
Hesitantly, I took the card from his hand and to my astonishment read, “Angelic Messenger Service. ‘Serving the Lord since God knows when’”.
I looked from the card to the angel and he opened his mouth, so as to speak.

“Norman Jones?”
“Y-y-yes?” I stammered.
He then withdrew a clipboard from his robe.
“Norman A. Jones, of 1515 S. Maplewood Lane?”
“Yes.”
“Finally,” he heaved a sigh of relief, “do you know how many ‘Norman Jones’ there are?”
“No.”
“More than you can shake a staff at.”
I nodded.
“I have a message for you from on high,” the angel proclaimed, “Lo, not far from this abode, there lies a treasure, a treasure of immeasurable worth. A treasure which, if discovered, could change the course of human history.”
I am loathe to admit it, but my human nature got the best of me and I blurted out, “Is it gold?”
“No, it is not gold."
“Is it diamonds?”
“No,” the angel said, “It is not gold, nor diamonds, nor emeralds, nor sapphires, nor rubies, nor a chest full of those little crunchy things you get from the fried fish place on the corner.”
“Oh,” I said disappointingly, “I like those.”
“They are nice,” he admitted, “but no, this is much more valuable. It is… a book.”
“A book?”
“Well, it’s a very important book, no mistake about it. And it is your mission to find it and present it to the world.”
“So,” I said, as I sat up straight in my bed, “I was chosen?”
“Yes, Norman Jones, you were.”
“Oh well, um… and why was I chosen?” I said demurely.
“Why were you chosen,” the angel repeated, “um, let’s see…” The angel got out his clipboard again and consulted his notes, flipping through several sheets of paper. “You were… chosen… because… oh, I know I have that written down somewhere… oh yes, here it is. ‘Nearest to the dig site’.”
My face fell.
“Nearest to the dig site?”
“Yep.”
“It’s not because I’m righteous?”
“No.”
“Virtuous?”
“No.”
“Moral?”
“No.”
“A good person?”
“No.”
“Hygienic?”
The angel sighed, “No”
“It’s not because I pray every morning and every night, go to church every Sunday and never had an impure thought in my life?”
“No, no, and we know better than that.”
“Oh,” I dropped my head and fidgeted, “I mean, you know, maybe it’s just a little bit about the fact that I won the Lincoln Elementary spelling bee two times…”
“Let it go!’ the angel interrupted.
“Okay.”

After that, the angel gave me directions as to where this miraculous book was buried. It turned out it was on the premises of a school playground near my house. The angel then produced the clipboard again.

“Now, if you’ll just sign this.”
“What is it?”, I said, looking it over.
“Oh, its just a statement saying that I did deliver the message to you and a wavier.”
“A wavier?”
“Yeah, you know, it releases me and the powers that be, from any responsibility for damages. I mean there’s some people an angel can appear to and bring a message from on high and they’re okay with it. Then there are other people… they just kinda go all higgidly-piggidly.”
“Ohh, I see,” I said slowly.
“Excellent, now if you’ll just sign here… and here… and over here… then initial here… and here… your shoe size… and then sign here, thank you. And here’s your copy,” the angel said, handing me a piece of paper. He then promptly vanished in a flash and burst of heavenly music. I immediately made plans to go excavate first thing in the morning.

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Fortunately, the next day was a Saturday, so I dug at the playground with few interruptions. I dug for some time and then lo (about three feet, to be exact), I hit upon a container. It was a sqaurish metal container made of tin with faded colors. It had a lid which was secured with a latch. Upon opening the sacred container, I found many items. There was a roundish vessel filled with a purple liquid and food that although was wrapped for preservation, did not make it through the mists of time. Obviously, I thought to myself, some sort of communion kit for a wayward traveller. Then, with shaking hands, I found the manuscript. Several sheaves of paper bound together with a thin tin wire, but immediately, I was dismayed. The handwriting was unintelligble, obviously written in a foreign language and I opined. How, I thought, was I going to bring this book to world if I myself couldn't make heads or tails of it? And then, came the greatest discovery of all. There in the metal container were two glass spheres about the size of dimes with colored swirls dancing inside them. I took the two spheres and placed them before my eyes and behold, I was able to make sense of the venerable manuscript. I took the package home and got busy translating.

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It turns out the manuscript was the chonicle of a brave and courageous Babylonian dwarf scribe named Nee-hi. This man, in spite of his short stature took upon himself to go on a quest to find the One True Way. He wrote of his journeys in three books he named I Nee-hi, II Nee-hi and the third book he dedicated to his favorite fruit found common in the Mediterranean, that book became to be known as Grape Nee-hi. With the translation completed, I am very honored to present this book to the public for their edification and blessing.

blessings along your path,
Norman Jones