Village of the trids
I don't know where this originally came from - I heard it first, like so many others, from my father.
Every autumn, a giant comes down out of the mountains, to a hill near a village of trids. The trids, anticipating his coming, gather atop the hill, where the giant, laughing uproarously, cheerfully kicks the trids off the hill. They roll gleefully to the bottom, shouting and laughing, only to run back up for another ride. The whole occassion is something of a tradition.
One day, a passing rabbi hears of this ritual and, curious, decideds to wait a few days and witness it himself.
The day comes, and the trids frolicking wakes the rabbi. Irritably, he gets up, dresses, and heads out to the nearby hill. He watches the spectacle for a while, and then, unable to resist, he begins up the hill, dodging the occassional rolling trid.
He reaches the top and heads over to mill around with a small group of trid who seem to be wating for their turn to be kicked off. The giat comes over, and is about to kick the whole bunch of them off, but then stops, peering down at them. The trids also seem to be a little confused, and end up staring at the Rabbi.
"What are you doing?" asks the giant. The rabbi, seeing that he is the one the giant is talking too, cranes his neck and looks up.
"Well, I've heard about this, and I've watched it, and I still don't understand it. I am really curious, and I want a good kick, just like the rest," he answers, looking at the trids.
The trids just laugh and, together with the giant, say--
"Silly rabbi! Kicks are for trids!"
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