[ WP ] A genie tells the story of the worst wish he 's ever granted .

Being a genie, you learn a lot about people's desires. Everyone wants *something*, but most of them need some help to achieve it. That's where I come in. I'm the guy you go to when you have a dream you desire and no means to achieve it. 
 
 Everyone knows the rules, of course. You ca n't wish for money, you ca n't wish for health and you ca n't wish for someone to be unborn. By now, no one asks me for these things. But they ask me for everything else. Want to play the violin? Done. Want your neighbor gone? I'll try to talk you out of it, but if it's really what you want, I'll do it. 
 
 I always thought that the worst wishes were the most selfish. The ones asking for unnatural intelligence, or fame, or fortune to me just reeked of humanity's vain and petty nature. But the worst one I ever granted belonged to ten-year-old Johnny Turner. 
 
 Johnny came to me at my home one evening, as most folks tend to do. The whole lamp story is cute, but it's not how we operate. If you know about us, we're easy to find, and the people we help can always point you in our direction. So little Johnny came to me asking for help. 
 
 `` What do you wish for, son?'' I asked him. He was a small boy, and the way he looked at me he, he reminded me of a scared puppy. 
 
 `` M-m-mister, my name's Johnny Turner. I h-heard you can help people.'' 
 
 I nodded. `` That's right, Johnny. I help people for a living. That's all I do. Now what does a boy like you need help with?'' 
 
 Johnny swallowed hard and struggled to get the words out before he started to cry. `` It's my mom. She's getting sick. My dad says it's a disease called MS. He says she's never gon na get better.'' At this point he wiped his eyes and grabbed my arms, his voice frantic and eyes staring into me. `` But, you can help her mister, right? I know you can! Everybody says so!'' 
 
 It broke my heart. Here was this little boy, pleading for my help, and it was one of the few times I was powerless. `` I'm very sorry, Johnny, but such a wish is more than I can grant. I ca n't take away your mom's illness, but I can make it easier for her to live with.'' 
 
 The single tear that left his eye slid slowly down his cheek. I followed it as it slowly dropped to the floor. He gazed around slowly, surveying everything surrounding him. I knelt down to face him, and he put his arms around me and sobbed. Little Johnny whispered his wish into my ear; I guess he did n't want God to know what he had wished for. 
 
 I told him it was done, and little Johnny's mother died in her sleep that night.
