A painter by the name of Murphy, while not a brilliant scholar, was a gifted portrait artist.
Over a short number of years, his fame grew, and soon people from all over Ireland were coming to the town of Doolin in County Clare to get him to paint their likenesses.
One day, a beautiful young Englishwoman arrived at his house in a stretch limo and asked if he would paint her nud3.
This being the first time anyone had made such a request, he was a bit perturbed, particularly when the woman told him that money was no object; in fact, she was willing to pay up to $25,000.
Not wanting to get into any marital strife, he asked her to wait while he went into the house to confer with Mary, his wife. In a few minutes, he returned.
“It would be my pleasure to paint yer portrait, missus,” he said, “The wife says it’s okay. I’ll paint ya in da nud3 alright, but I have to at least leave me socks on so I have a place to wipe me brushes.”
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Murphy drops some buttered toast on the kitchen floor and it lands butter-side-up.
He looks down in astonishment, for he knows that it’s a law of nature of the universe that buttered toast always falls butter-side-down, so he rushes round to the presbytery to fetch Father Flanagan.
He tells the priest that a miracle has occurred in his kitchen, but he won’t say what it is, so he asks Fr. Flanagan to come and see it with his own eyes. He leads Fr. Flanagan into the kitchen and asks him what he sees on the floor.
“Well,” says the priest, “it’s pretty obvious. Someone has dropped some buttered toast on the floor and then, for some reason, they flipped it over so that the butter was on top.”
“No, Father, I dropped it and it landed like that!” exclaimed Murphy.
“Oh my Lord,” says Father Flanagan, “dropped toast never falls with the butter side up. It’s a miracle… No… Wait… It’s not for me to say it’s a miracle. I’ll have to report this matter to the Bishop and he’ll have to deal with it. He’ll send some people round; to interview you, take photographs, and so on…”
A thorough investigation is conducted, not only by the archdiocese but by scientists sent over from the Curia in Rome. No expense is spared. There is great excitement in the town as everyone knows that a miracle will bring in much need tourism revenue.
Then, after 8 long weeks and with great fanfare, the Bishop announces the final ruling.
“It is certain that some kind of an extraordinary event took place in Murphy’s kitchen, quite outside the natural laws of the universe. Something has definitely happened which cannot be explained by Earthly means. Yet the Holy See must be very cautious before ruling a miracle and all other explanations must be ruled out. And so, unfortunately for that very reason, in this case, it has been declared ‘No Miracle’ because they think that Murphy may have simply buttered the toast on the wrong side!”
