A weaver went to a white elephant sale and found a dusty old bottle. As she was wiping off the schmutz, smoke arose and an ancient Genie appeared before her.
“Greetings, mistress,” he said in a raspy voice. “I am your genie.”
“Wow,” the weaver said. “Does that mean I get three wishes?”
He paused to catch his breath and said “Mistress, I am very old, and very weak. I cannot manage three, but I can grant you one.”
He rested again and wheezed “What is your wish?”
The weaver’s thought a long while and said, “I wish for world peace.”
“Mistress,” he cried, ” I am very old, and very weak. I cannot grant you so great a wish as world peace. Do you not have another wish?”
The weaver thought again and said, “I wish to finish all my unfinished projects.”
The genie was horrified at the potential drain on his remaining strength. With a sigh, he said, “Mistress, I am a very, very, very old genie, and my powers are very, very weak. I am sorry, but I am unable to grant this wish.
Would you still go for world peace?”
Original author unknown, retold by Martha Beth Lewis on Fiber Funnies, reinterpreted by Victoria.
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