From Something to Nothing to Something

 

            Julius woke up beneath a pile of flattened cardboard boxes, slightly damp, painfully hungry and confused as to his location. He slid out from beneath his temporary protection from the elements to see other people in a similar state scattered around the alleyway. Still tired and disappointed in the tragic turn his life had taken several years prior, he thought back to his years at university, which was followed by a high paying job as a financial manager.

               “Ugh, this is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I was earning six figures a year, had a wife and kids, lived in opulence, drove a Bentley and now I live in an alley and am hungry all the time. I guess that’s what happens when your best friend deceives you, fabricates stories about your ethics, and reports you to the police.”

               “Grocery store, get to a grocery store,” he muttered to himself. “There is always discarded food in the dumpsters behind the stores. Phew, I am so hungry. Looks like I have about a thirty-minute walk to the closest store.” He walked out of the alley, stopped at the corner and gave a few minutes of consideration of the shortest path to the grocery store. “I think I’ll cut through that neighborhood, that should save me about ten minutes.”

               As he shuffled past the largest and most beautiful homes in the city, he could see their occupants peeking through the curtains as he passed by. Seeing these homes, seeing these arrogant and selfish people stirred up memories of his former life, his own selfishness, and the deception that had been used against him to bring him to this place in life.

               Julius could see the grocery store sign hovering far overhead only a few blocks ahead of him. “Okay, let’s hope I can find something of some nutritional value and something to drink,” he muttered. He began walking faster, slipped into the alley and found several discarded boxes of doughnuts, a gallon jug of iced tea, and a bag of apples. “Yes, this is perfect,” he said. Slipping the items into his backpack, he left the alley, found a small park with benches and enjoyed his free meal while watching children and dogs play in the open space.

               After consuming six doughnuts, two apples, and almost half of the iced tea, he rose from the park bench to take a seat beneath a massive maple tree. As he waited and watched the activity in the park, he was approached by two police officers looking less than friendly or compassionate.

               “Excuse me, sir,” one of them said, “I need to see some identification and an explanation of why you are here.”

               Julius slowly rose to his feet, cautiously removed his wallet from his pocket, handed over his driver’s license and spoke with respect. “I’ve been in a bad place for several years,” he said. “I really wanted to get outside and enjoy the park setting while I ate my breakfast.”

               “We’ll need you to come with us,” the other officer said. “We have received reports that a questionable character was seen wandering through a local neighborhood and you perfectly match the description given to us. I’ll place your backpack in the trunk of the car, put your hands behind your back while we drive you to the station to be processed.”

               As Julius was confined in the small space of the police car, he immediately noticed just how horribly he smelled but he felt better after having plenty to eat. He was removed from the back of the police car and led inside the station to answer questions at a desk from a third officer. His name, where he lived, the details of his life, and the horrible path he had lived for the past several years.

               Shortly thereafter he was led to a jail cell to join four others who seemed to be in a similar position as himself. He watched the clock slowly crawl by as two hours passed until another officer opened the cell, called him out, and introduced him to a man who appeared to be a priest. Julius and the priest left the station, to learn that the priest had paid for his bail with the promise to get him back to a better place in life.

               “Hello Julius,” the priest said. “My name is Father Andrew and I hope I and the people at my church can help you get yourself back to a better place in life. We have a small apartment where you can stay, shower, sleep, and dress in untattered and clean clothes. I’ll take you there now and you can get settled in and comfortable.”

               The two men climbed into the priest’s car, drove a few blocks, parked and walked into a very small apartment. “I’ll be back in about three hours, which should give you enough time to clean up, relax, and get dressed. When I return, we can get some lunch, and I’ll introduce you to some other men from our church. We are all very interested in hearing about how we can help you, your past, and find you a new path to walk to improve yourself.”

               “Thank you so much, Father Andrew,” Julius said. “I truly appreciate your generosity and help. I’ll see you in about three hours.”

               He watched the priest leave the apartment, lock the door behind him, to then undress and drop his clothing into the garbage can in the kitchen. “Man, it has been a long time since I’ve had a good shower,” he said to himself. As the warm water washed over his body, he watched months of filth slither down the drain. “I should start at the top,” he said. “Wash my hair, my face and work my way down. Phew, this feels so much better.”

               Scrubbing away months of dirt and stink, he stood motionless in the warm water, realized his fingernails and toenails were ridiculously long and dirty, to then turn off the water, and dry himself as he stood on the bath mat. He looked through the bathroom to find clippers, scissors, a comb and a razor. “I guess I have to cut my own hair, trim this beard short, and shave in order to look civilized.”

               Feeling like a completely different person, he wandered through the apartment to find a set of clothes that fit him and he waited for the three hours to pass when Father Andrew would return. “I could really go for a good, warm lunch right now,” he said. “Let’s see how this plays out.” The priest arrived, they left the apartment, drove to a local diner to meet three other men, where he was informed he could order anything he wanted from the menu.

               The five men spent the next hour talking about Julius’ early life, his years at university, his job in financial management, the deception of someone he believed was his friend, his loss of wife and children, and his abilities in many different fields. As they finished their meals, he was offered the opportunity to stay at the apartment for as long as he needed, with an offer to find him work to save up enough money to find his own residence.

               After returning to the apartment, Julius spent the next four days submitting applications to jobs in the financial management field. He received a job offer from his third application which he quickly accepted. He then placed a phone call to Father Andrew to inform him of his new job, his plan to save enough money for the next three months to then find his own home. “I cannot thank you and the other men enough,” he said. “You all have made great sacrifices for me and helped me get back on the right path.”

               “Of course,” Father Andrew said. “This is what life is supposed to be like. We’ll reconnect after three months once you find your new home. Yes, we’ll stay in contact during that time and I hope you continue making good decisions. This is a new opportunity for you. Talk to you soon.”

               Julius made a habit of visiting different churches each Sunday morning, starting of course with the Orthodox church led by Father Andrew. This was followed by a visit to a Baptist church, a Presbyterian church, a Roman church, and a non-denominational church. After each service he was disappointed to find that with the exception of the Orthodox church, all the other churches were cold, distant, and uninterested in genuine interaction.

               Three months passed, and he placed a call to Father Andrew, informing him that he now had enough money to secure his own home. “I’ll be visiting your parish next week,” he said, “so I can return the keys, offer my genuine thanks and have a final interaction with all of you.”

               Because he had not yet enough money to purchase a car, Julius walked to the Orthodox church to be warmly welcomed and enjoyed the beauty and stillness of the service. When the service was over, he joined the entire congregation for a meal afterwards, where he interacted with several others he had not yet previously known. He accepted an offer for a ride to the apartment to gather his few things, and a subsequent ride to his new home.

               Julius stood on the front step of the duplex, waved goodbye to Father Andrew as he drove away. As he stood in the sunshine enjoying the warmth, he was approached by his neighbor to receive a friendly introduction. The two men exchanged names, phone numbers, and shared a brief history of their lives.

               “It was nice meeting you, Harold,” Julius said. “I wanted to let you know that I will be receiving a lot of deliveries over the next few weeks.  Can I leave you my garage code so that when deliveries are made, if you are home, you can let them in to place the parcels in the garage?”

               “Yes, of course,” Harold said. “Package theft isn’t really much of a problem in our neighborhood but having them out of sight would be a good idea. I’m glad to see that someone responsible and intelligent is moving in next door. Let’s stay in contact as you get settled in. I know a lot of people who could make good use of your financial advice. Have a good day, Julius.”

               The two men shook hands, Julius watched Harold walk back into his duplex, to then walk into his own empty duplex. “Wow, I need to get some food in this fridge,” he grumbled. “The table, chairs, and bed are supposed to be here today. With that in mind, I need to walk down to the mall and pick up the few essentials to keep myself moving forward. Oh shoot, I need to give my garage code to Harold before I leave.”

               He knocked on Harold’s door, handed him a slip of paper with the garage code, informed him of his walk to the mall to pick up a few things. Upon hearing this Harold immediately offered to drive him there and back. “We can use my truck so you don’t have to carry your things such a long distance. I would like to help as much as I can,” he said. “There is nothing better than having a good neighbor. Did you want to go right now?”

               “Yes, that would be great, thank you,” Julius said.

Couldn't Keep

 

            They stood together at the edge of the wooded property with a small, flowing stream, with dreams of ownership, dreams of building a large, beautiful home that would one day be filled with children, who would eventually become adults, marry, and build homes of their own on this vast piece of property, essentially creating a massive homestead that would be a place of safety for extended family.

               Many prior years of hard work, saving as much money as possible, and carefully crafting plans to bring about their dreams and desires finally became a reality. Commitment, faithfulness, diligence, and focus on building their new life one step at a time, created a time frame that allowed them to steadily make progress, instill a good work ethic and see the fruit of their work become their new reality.

               The original home started out small to grow in steps, adding space as space was needed, with each coming child more rooms were added, gardens were planted, an orchard was begun, firewood was cut, and a hobby farm of sorts was begun, creating a place to grow, to learn, to improve, and to become better people. Between working a full-time job, caring for the farm, raising children, and increasing the size of the home as more room was needed, they eventually stood together as a family to look out across the vast and seemingly limitless forest that surrounded them.

               Like a dream and vision that had no end, his plans, his hopes, and his aspirations also had no limit. Arriving home each day after a full day of work, he was always pleased to see that the house was clean, organized, and peaceful. As he drove up the two-mile gravel driveway to pull up in front of the house, he could see his two oldest sons splitting and stacking firewood. His oldest daughter was hidden somewhere among the bee hives on the southern part of the property, gathering the honeycomb to extract the honey from the wax that was to be used for making candles, two other sources of income for the home.

               The years slowly ticked by, to bring the addition of more children, and with them the need for more space, more food, and the glory of safe space in the forests around them. Three or four days a week, he would return home to find that the older children were keeping the house running, keeping it clean and orderly, as their mother was often gone off doing who knows what. “This just doesn’t seem right,” he would say to himself as he walked into the home.

               Hugging each child as he entered the home, he prepared dinner, thanked them all for their hard work and diligence in maintaining a comfortable and peaceful home. As darkness began to settle, he called everyone in from all corners of the home, the forest, and the furthest reaches of what they called their homestead to join him at the table for an almost comprehensive family dinner.

               The evening meal was finished and the oldest three children stepped up to put away the leftover food, clean the kitchen, wash the dishes, and shuffle off the smaller children to simple and helpful duties around the house. He hugged each child again as the meal was complete, to then slip away to the cool breeze and darkness of the open front porch, relishing the peace and silence.

               He repeatedly checked his watch as the evening grew darker and colder until ten o’clock rolled around, prompting him to take a shower and slip into an empty bed. He knew what the next several hours would bring or not bring, finally falling asleep he woke, once again to an empty bed to find something to eat for breakfast while all the children remained asleep. “Lunch, I need to put together something for lunch,” he muttered to himself. “This is crazy, our evenings as a family should not be this way.”

               He woke the oldest three, communicated his love for them, urged them to rise from bed, step up and help around the house, to ensure that the smaller children would be taken care of, would eat well, and would continue to learn to be helpful in so many daily chores. “If your mother does not show up soon, I’ll need you all to work through the school work with the little ones,” he said. “I’ll call during my lunch break and make sure that you all are doing well.”

               Muttering under his breath as he drove to work, hating the idea of leaving the children unattended. “They are too little to left with this much responsibility,” he said to himself. “Maybe I’ll call a friend, a neighbor or another family member to check on them at some point today.”

               The first half of his day crept by and as he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he dialed the home phone number to receive no response. “Wow, that’s not good,” he said. “I guess I should try again in about an hour. This is truly disturbing.” His lunch break ended, he kept one eye on the clock and when another hour had passed, he once again placed another phone call to again receive no response.

               Thirty minutes before the end of the day, his cellphone rang, with a call from his sister-in-law, with alarming news that no one was at his home when she drove there to check on the children. “Okay, thanks for the call,” he said. “I’m going to leave early and see if I can figure out what is going on out there. I’ll call you if I figure anything out.”

               He called a brief meeting with his boss, explained the situation and the need to leave early that day. “I’ll come in early tomorrow to make up for today, or I’ll stay late tomorrow to make up for today, whichever you prefer,” he said. Rolling his neck to try to dissipate the tension that had been building since lunch, he took several deep breaths and drove home to find that the entire family was absent, the house was dark with a good deal of their personal belongings missing as well.

               “Brr, it is so cold in here,” he grumbled. “I need to start a fire and burn off this chill. Let’s see if I can find a note, an explanation or something to make sense of this aching emptiness.” He gathered some firewood, crumpled some newspaper, split some kindling, and soon had a roaring fire in the fireplace, slowly increasing the temperature level in the home. “Okay, look through each room and each flat surface in hope of finding a note that gives me something to work with to understand what is happening.”

               Every room was searched; every flat surface was reviewed to produce nothing of any sort of explanation for his solitude. He found himself looking at his watch every ten minutes until darkness slowly swallowed his empty home, leaving him feeling empty and sad and hungry all at the same time. “Guess I should find something to eat,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be spending the evening alone. Man, this is frustrating and confusing, what to do, what to do?”

               He filled his belly with whatever he could find in the refrigerator to then take a shower, and slip into bed early, knowing that another full day of work lay ahead of him. He crawled out of bed earlier than normal, walked from room to room, to once again find that he was still alone, the house had gone cold as the fire had burned itself out while he slept. “Oof, off to work I guess,” he grumbled. “I need some breakfast first and I’ll see what the day brings.”

               Lunch time came around; he placed a call to the home phone to once again receive no answer. He took a thirty-minute lunch to make up for his early departure the day before to then leave at his normal time, followed by a thirty-minute drive home and a slow tortuous drive up the gravel driveway. Darkness had not yet begun to fall and he approached the charred remains of their once beautiful home, sick at the thought that all his hard work, his years of thoughts, saving, and planning was now gone, leaving only an aching emptiness inside of him.

               “Nothing is here, everything is gone, now what do I do,” he wondered. Now with nothing but clothes on his back, his shoes, his car, and his cellphone, he drove into the nearest town to find a cheap motel room. “I need to run by the grocery store, pick up a few things, and settle into the motel which will provide a place to sleep, a shower, and hopefully a decent continental breakfast following my rising from sleep the next morning.”

               Jarred from his restless sleep, he woke up confused, wishing that his memories from the previous day were all part of a horrible dream. As he woke up in a bed and room he did not recognize, he knew that his reality had just radically changed into a wretched new existence, a new world that left him alone, confused, and with very little to call his own.

“Phew, time to think about a new approach to life, a new way to interact, and how to move forward,” he grumbled. “I need to figure out how to find answers for all that has happened in the last few days.”

The Ultimate Change

 

            Julio was born in the Mission District, a neighborhood of the rapidly declining city of San Francisco, the only son of a family that had been part of the United States for three generations. With three older sisters and one younger sister, he learned to be hard, aggressive, and protective of those he loved. Unusually tall for a Hispanic boy, he learned to use his size, his passion, and his strength to instill fear in those in the community around him, eventually taking on the reputation of one whom no one dared anger.

               By his thirteenth birthday, he had grown taller and larger than everyone in his extended family. On his way home from school, mere months before beginning his years of high school, he came across two classmates harassing his younger sister with vulgar comments and suggestive threats against her person. Without giving away his presence, he motioned for his sister to ignore his approach, to then knock the heads of the two boys together and watch them drop to the street.

               He stepped on the hands of both boys to release a cracking sound and a groan from each, to then put his arm around his sister and walk her home with promises that he would never allow anyone to harm her, speak to her in that way, or get away with that kind of verbal abuse. As they mounted the steps to their apartment, little Maria wrapped him in a strong embrace with tears of thanksgiving.

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I am always amazed at how some people still do things like that when they know that you’ll deal with them in a way that they won’t find pleasant.”

               He gave her a gentle hug in return, opened the door for her, and sat down on the steps to communicate the message that he would have no one treating his sister in that way. From his seated position, he could see the two boys pull themselves to their feet and run in the opposite direction, noticing a quick glance back from them both. With the look back, he stood up, descended the steps and made an aggressive move toward them as they ran away.

               From that day forward, Julio always walked little Maria to her school before heading toward his own building. He was part way through his next school day to see the two boys from the day before with their hands in bandages, which stirred in him a small laugh as he watched them struggle with working through their homework and taking notes.

               The school year finished and Julio began his four-year journey through high school, already having the name and attitude that everyone respected and didn’t care confront, knowing that violence would certainly follow any disrespect to him, to his friends, or to his family. Upon reaching graduation, he had no intention of continuing an education into university and instead took a job as a delivery person. This path became his new reality, providing a steady income to take care of his needs and the needs of his family.

               On more than one occasion, he was confronted by small groups of young men who intended to abscond with his packages and impose some pain upon him at the same time. Julio knew of what he was capable, protected the responsibility with which he was entrusted and broke more than a few bones on those who dared confront him. After six years in this role, his reputation and show of sheer force created a reputation that no one else dared challenge.

               This role of delivery person gave him the opportunity to see his own neighborhood, other neighborhoods, and how people in other cultures lived and succeeded. The criminal activity of those around him tore at his heart, moving him to make the decision to begin a new role and create a new reputation in and around his community. The day after his last delivery, he called together his four closest friends to brainstorm on an idea that had been building within his heart and mind.

               “Hey guys, thanks for getting together,” he said. “As I’ve been doing this delivery work for so long, I’ve seen a lot of crime, and how other people live. I’ve been thinking that the five of us could start a security business where we provide protection for a wealthy clientele.”

               “Security, really,” one of his friends said. “I have a feeling that we would be hard pressed to convince pretty much anyone to hire young Hispanic guys for protection.”

               “I’ve been doing some research,” Julio said. “The pay for roles like this is exceptionally high and I know we could do a great job with our knowledge of these neighborhoods, and how to protect ourselves and others. This will give us the opportunity to disprove the ugly picture that so many have of young Hispanic men. I’ll set everything up, let’s give this a try. I’ll keep you updated as all the details fall into place.”

               Two weeks passed and Julio began to make connections, began the paperwork for a business license, to then receive confirmation from his four friends that they would be interested in joining him in his endeavor. “Hey guys, I made some business cards for us that we can begin delivering to different people, different businesses, and different neighborhoods.”

               Within one week of passing out business cards and connecting with businesses around the city, his phone began to blow up from client’s seeking their services. Julio and his friends began their work of protection for over one dozen clients, which allowed them enough income to create an office with a warm, clean, and friendly environment to receive new customers.

               When Julio and his friends reached their thirtieth birthdays, they were in awe of how large their client base had become. “Guys, we really should consider hiring more people to help us with the amount of work we have right now,” he said. “I really hate the idea of turning down work because the five of us cannot handle it all. If you have any ideas, talk to them and if they’re interested, we can bring them in for an interview and hopefully continue to grow our client base.”

               ‘Julio and Friends’ became the protection service that most small companies and wealthy individuals in and around the Bay area went to for flawless and genuine protection. Julio and his four friends watched their business continue to grow, taking on more and more agents. When Julio reached the age of fifty, he made the decision to bring on more agents and spend the majority of his time making connections, handling paperwork, and helping change the neighborhood for the good of those he knew and loved.

               As he drew closer to retirement age, he chose one of his agents to take over the role that he currently filled, while accepting a reduced income from the business to continue supporting himself and his family. ‘Julio and Friends’ continued to blossom, create safety, protection, a safe neighborhood, and also destroy the unfortunate stereotype against young Hispanic men. He and his four original friends sat in the park playing chess across from their office which had recently expanded, as they shared stories about how radically everything had changed since they began this business of protection.

               He would stop into the office once a month to interact with those he had placed in charge since his absence. After each visit, he would leave the office smiling, knowing that he and his friends had done a good thing, were helping people, and were making the world a better place. Though drawing close to seventy years old, he was still stronger and more agile that most on the streets of his neighborhood.

               After a pleasant afternoon with his four friends, he invited them to join him on a short walk throughout the neighborhoods that surrounded the Mission District. As they slowly walked from block to block, they counted seventeen different situations that involved agents from ‘Julio and Friends’.

               “Guys, we have done a good thing,” he said. “Who would have thought that a crazy idea I had so many years ago would turn into a flourishing business that is destroying the bad image that so many have of young Hispanic men. I want to remind you of how proud we should all be with the work we have done.”

               “I couldn’t agree more,” one of his friends said. “Honestly, I’m getting tired. Let’s go back to my place, watch a movie and enjoy some pizza delivery. We aren’t too far away from there right now. This has been a great day. Yes, Julio, you are right. Since we started this protection business, we are seeing many of our young men with jobs to support themselves and their families. This was a great idea that you pulled together and has created hope for our community.”

Forgetting History

 

The week after his eighteenth birthday, Matthew walked to the Marine’s registration office to sign over his life in the service of his country. He had graduated from high school at the top of his class with dreams and aspirations of doing good for others and of making the world a better and safer place. After a thirty-minute conversation with the recruitment officer, twice he carefully read through the documents laid before him and with no further questions, signed his name to learn that he had twenty days before he would be on a bus to training camp in the Midwest.

The thirty-minute walk back home gave him time to craft his thoughts, his arguments, and his conversation with his parents. “It would probably be wise to wait at least half of the time before I leave to lay this out on my parents,” he thought. His mind was sharper and more educated than anyone he knew, his strength, his stamina, and his ability to overcome any physical challenge could not be any better.

He rounded the corner to his neighborhood, ascended his front steps, and entered his home to find his mother waiting for him at the kitchen counter. “Hi Matthew,” she said, “I would ask where you’ve been but based on your slightly sweaty state of being, I have to assume you were out exercising.”

“Hi Mom, yes, you’re right,” he answered. “I needed to get out and burn off some energy. There is nothing better than that dopamine hit when one is bored and not wanting to distract oneself with social media or television. Yes, it was a great workout. I have to say I am terribly hungry. Should I have a snack now or will we be having dinner soon?”

Ten days passed and Matthew worked very hard to keep his secret plans quiet. The weekend came around and he joined his parents in the living room to watch a movie but before the movie started, he shared his plans of joining the Marines, and that he would be on a bus to the East Coast in ten days hence. The day of his departure arrived far faster than he could have imagined, his mother was in tears, and his father was smiling with pride at his son’s decision to be one who would make a difference in the world. The details for his time and location of departure had arrived in the mail three days before.

Matthew now stood at the train station with his ticket in hand, his suitcase packed with clothes and snacks, with dreams growing larger and larger in his mind. In a sea of other young men close to his age, they all squeezed onto the train, engaged in small talk and wondered about the length of their training and possible locations for them after training was complete. The ten-hour train ride finally came to an end, they gathered their luggage, transferred it to storage beneath a bus, found their seats therein and rode for two hours to training camp.

The thirteen weeks of training passed and Matthew found himself on an airplane to Camp Hansen in Okinawa, Japan. He was well over six feet tall, white, and built like a piece of steel, finding himself thrilled at being of service to his country, of helping make the world a better place, and as the plane descended to land, he learned that he would become part of the MP’s in and around the city of Okinawa. The plane landed to be greeted by a bus to take he and his fellow soldiers to the base.

They arrived at the base, they were greeted by those in charge, and were scattered across several barracks, were given assignments, and learned that regardless of who was committing whatever crime, it was their responsibility to diffuse the situation with grace and dignity. Foundationally, their job was to put a stop to any crime or incursion taking place, whether it was being committed by a civilian or another soldier.

Matthew was connected to Alexander, a fellow soldier of the same age and same family situation. They were assigned to a twelve-block portion of town that consisted mostly of storefronts and a few high-rise apartment buildings. The two young men walked shoulder to shoulder in a systematic pattern to cover their assigned portion of the city. Matthew drove his elbow into Alexander’s ribs which was followed by a verbal command to watch a certain young man with a backpack entering a small store.

“Hey, check out that kid,” Matthew said. “He had a backpack when he walked into the store and now he no longer does. We need to follow up on that, come on, stay with me.” The two men hurried into the store, saw the abandoned backpack, quickly retrieved it, ran out of the store to deposit it in the middle of the street. The two young men moved in opposite directions, blocking off traffic with the concern that the backpack may contain explosives. Shouting and motioning for everyone to stay back and clear out the area, the backpack exploded, releasing a volley of shrapnel and nails, essentially causing no damage to anyone or anything.

“Alexander, call it in,” Matthew said. “We just saved a number of lives and avoided serious damage to someone’s store.”

“Alright, I’m on it,” Alexander answered. Within twenty minutes a team of Marine’s arrived and began searching through security footage to identify the young man with the backpack.

“Alright, Alexander, it looks like we’ve done our job and the research team will take care of the rest,” Matthew said. “Let’s keep moving in and around our assigned space.”

The two young men continued their pattern around the city, until Alexander spotted three other Marine’s abduct a young girl from a street corner to drag her into an alley. “Matthew, check that out,” he said. “That does not look good. We need to get over there, take some photos and protect that little girl. Three Marine’s abducting a girl will certainly not lead to a good conclusion.”

Feeling like a finely tuned weapon, Matthew ran ahead into the alley, used his years of physical training, boxing skills, and grappling techniques to disable the three Marine’s. “Alexander, call this in,” he said. “We will need to keep these three here and the girl as well. It is situations like this that make the US military look bad. I’m sure another research team will be here sooner than later.”

Matthew and Alexander became close friends until their three years of service in Okinawa ended to potentially send them both home. “Wow, Alexander,” Matthew said. “Think back to all the good that we have done to protect others, to prevent damage, and to improve the look of the US military in this city. I’m done with my three years of service and cannot wait to see my family, my friends, and my hometown again.”

Matthew signed his final papers which allowed him to be honorably discharged from the Marines and to also receive awards of commendation for his excellent work. The two young men exchanged hugs and Alexander watched Matthew enter the plane to return home while he made the decision to complete an additional three years of service.

Matthew landed at LAX and was greeted by his parents and three friends from high school. Receiving multiple hugs from a teary-eyed mother, he was thrilled at the prospect of eating home cooked meals rather than the bland military food he had been forced to consume the past three years. Within six months of arriving at home, Matthew and two of his friends from high school began their own security service, providing personalized protection for the wealthy and the important.

The transition from military life to being a private body guard was a smooth change, allowing him to continue using his skills in the service of others. As he reached his thirtieth year, he eventually proposed to his girlfriend, in a relationship that had been brewing for the last three years. Six months later, he and she became one after a beautiful ceremony at the local church.

After a two-week honeymoon, Matthew returned to work to share his new idea with his business partners. “Hey guys, I have been thinking about something,” he said. “Our business is doing exceptional with so many wealthy and important people paying us very well for our services. I was thinking that we should start spending time on the streets of our hometown, providing an unpaid neighborhood watch kind of situation. We have the skills and the passion to serve and protect. It would only have to be a few hours on weekends when we’re not busy with doing private work for our paying clients.”

His two partners agreed with him and the new idea was put into action, which brought about an incredible decline in violence, theft, and abuse of those who were vulnerable. All three men eventually grew old, hired other young men to continue their work, to eventually retire, and receive commendation from the city mayor, the governor of the state, the state patrol, the sheriff’s department, and the city police department.

Matthew continued to watch the trajectory of the company that he and his friends had started, to sadly see that it was shut down after twenty years of service without them. Matthew, his two friends and their wives would meet each week to lament the slow decline of the quality of life, the increasing crime and the sad news of their company being shut down.

“This is so sad to me, guys,” Matthew said. “I put in three years of military service, and decades of work in our city to fight against crime and now it seems like all that work has come to nothing. If you go onto social media, watch the news, and look at the people that are considered important, you won’t see any of them doing anything of actual value.”

“Yep, that is the sad truth,” one of his friends said. “Most people aren’t really concerned about truth, justice, or helping others, it seems that everyone simply wants to be distracted. Fortunately, we won’t be around forever to see the continued decline into this kind of nonsense. Should we start up the business once again, by hiring new people to continue the work that accomplished so much?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Matthew said. “We all will need to ask around and see if we can put something together. It would be a crime to simply let it all go. After hiring new men to continue the work, we also need to establish a board of trustees so that the work will always continue. We cannot leave that decision up to the new hires.”

Cutting It Off

 

            Barclay grew up knowing only wealth, comfort, and beauty. The only child of the wealthiest family in the United Kingdom, he watched his father spend his free time in his personal library, organizing ideas, making business decisions, and developing business plans to further increase the wealth and position of authority of his family. His father was sixty-two years old when Barclay was born to eventually repose on Barclay’s twentieth birthday, leaving him a lengthy document explaining every detail of the responsibilities that lay before him.

               While only two years through university, he argued with himself about the near impossible possibility of succeeding in his studies and handling all the financial details for his family. After a lengthy discussion with the legal department at the family company, he decided to complete his studies at the university and offer guidance and wisdom whenever the board needed his input.

               Thirty days after his graduation, Barclay took over the position of CEO of the company, putting to use his remarkable skills at organizing data, and restructuring the overly complex hierarchy of offices, departments, and factories that all bore the surname of the Barclay line. After eighteen years of leadership, guidance, and struggling against the board that his father had put in place, he eventually decided to consider selling the family home, in which he and his mother lived. Shortly after her death, he stood at the helm of a vast empire that had been the foundation of his multi-generation family for at least seven generations.

               He walked out of the office that formerly belonged to his father, which was now his place of rumination and planning, to stand in perfect silence at the foot of the stairs just beyond the main entrance. “Wow, so much polished wood, so much tile, and so much beauty,” he marveled to himself. “I know this home exceeds twelve thousand square feet, which is a ridiculous number for one man to possess and occupy alone.”

               As he knelt in the center of the glorious, beautiful, and shockingly elaborate entry way, he ceased all thought, all justification, and all excuses for retaining such a home simply for himself. “That gives me an idea,” he said to himself. “Back to the office to do some research and definitely change my approach to life.” Barclay sat down at his desk, flipped open his laptop and opened the file that contained the names and addresses of all his employee that served in his beautiful home. “Okay, find a map, time to learn the reality of life for people who are not immersed in wealth.”

               He rose from his desk, projected a map of the city of London on a wall designed for such a purpose. He removed the list of addresses from his printer that showed the homes of each of his employees. He created a mental map and plan to drive through each of these neighborhoods to obtain a better grasp on reality, to see a world of suffering, of poverty, and of lack that he had never previously experienced.

               He returned to his desk, placed a phone call to his driver to pick him up at the main entrance and plan for a lengthy drive across most of London. With a highlighted list that was preceded by a sequence of numbers, he climbed into the back seat of the Bentley. “Reginald, I have created a list of addresses for you to follow as we spend the next several hours driving around London,” he said. “I must admit that this is a rather unusual request, as we will be visiting dark and possibly dangerous corners of London. I am going to suggest that we bring some of the larger and stronger laborers with us as we travel.”

               “Yes, sir, very good sir,” Reginald answered.

               “Give me a few minutes to place a phone call to have the others join us,” Barclay said. Reginald skimmed through the list that his boss had given him, releasing a long breath and wrestling with thoughts of concern about safety and the purpose of such an adventure. Within twenty minutes, the family Land Rover pulled up behind them, prompting Barclay to emerge from the car with specific instructions to the four large men waiting behind them.

               Within a few minutes, he returned to the Bentley and gave instructions to proceed to the first address. The Land Rover remained in close proximity of the car as they sliced through the semi-darkness of the soon to arrive evening. After a thirty-minute drive, they arrived at the first location, at which Barclay emerged from his car to explore the neighborhood, view the homeless people, and engage in dialog with those who lingered on street corners, and the multiple of prostitutes who seemed truly interested in offering their services to such a handsome and wealthy young man.

               This became his pattern for the remaining six homes on the list he had created. He felt safe and comfortable as he and the four large men from the Land Rover walked with him through these dark, slightly dangerous, and questionable neighborhoods. He and they returned to their vehicles, he thanked them for their presence as they explored corners of the city that he had previously never experienced. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” he said. “We will now return home and you can get back to whatever it was that you were doing when I called for your assistance.”

               The Bentley pulled through wrought iron fence and traveled up the driveway to deposit him at the front door of his home which sat empty save the many servants that filled the corners of the overly large house. He thanked Reginald for his time and efforts of driving him through the various neighborhoods, he returned to his office, loaded the photos from his phone into his laptop, to project them on the wall to the left of his desk. “Wow, this is crazy,” he muttered to himself. “I had no idea that our people live in that kind of squalor and deprivation. I really need to do something different.”

               In a spur of the moment decision, he decided to increase the pay of each of his household employees by twenty five percent. He composed an email communicating this decision to each of his household employees, pressed the send button, wandered his way across his home to the kitchen to find a snack for himself, greeting each servant as he passed through multiple hallways.

               Sitting in the kitchen and chatting with the head cook, he finished his small meal, ascended to the second floor, took a shower, and retired for the evening with dreams and visions of his many travels that evening. Barclay awoke to the sound of his alarm, dragging him from sleep at seven a.m.

               “Oof, time for a phone call to the realtor,” he said to himself. “But breakfast is first. You know, I think I’ll invite all the servants to join me for this meal. No one likes to eat alone.” He and the dozen servants all sat together in the formal dining room to enjoy a glorious, copious, and tasty meal just prepared by his three cooks. Everyone completed their meal, and he rose from his seat to ask the question if everyone had received their email sent the night before.

               All of them nodded in agreement, offering words of thankfulness, and appreciation for his generosity. “In an act of kindness toward our kitchen staff, will everyone please bring their dishes into the kitchen before departing to return to their responsibilities, thank you so much everyone for your hard work.”

               The room slowly emptied, leaving Barclay sitting alone, to then bring his own dishes into the kitchen and return to his office to place the phone call to his realtor. Within the hour, Barclay and the realtor sat together to craft multiple documents to place his home for sale on the London real estate market. He deliberately priced the home lower than the realtor suggested, creating a situation that would result in a speedy sale. After accepting a full price offer after a third showing, the paperwork was signed, and he chose another home, much smaller and at the same time retaining his employees to tend and keep the new home in its original beautiful state.

               Within six weeks, the former Barclay home was empty and its contents were relocated to smaller and equally beautiful home that was a much more reasonable fit for his needs. In addition to his new home, he purchased an apartment complex relatively near his new home, which provided a cleaner, safer, and more convenient setting for his household employees. Because the new home was considerably smaller, he sold approximately half of his furniture and donated the funds to several responsible and philanthropic organizations in an effort to create a cleaner, safer London for as many people as possible.

               With profits from the number of factories and businesses owned by his family line, Barclay began new companies in order to hire those who struggled to find employment. Three years after accomplishing his efforts of philanthropy, he and Reginald repeated their original drive to view much cleaner and safer communities.

               “We did it, Reginald,” he said as they returned home. “I hope you feel as good as I do, knowing that we have put in a great effort to make the communities surrounding us better for those who do not enjoy the comfort we enjoy. Please do me a favor.”
               “Yes, sir of course,” he answered. “What would you like me to do?”

               “When we arrive at home, I would like you to gather all of the servants in the formal dining room so they can share their knowledge and experience of how our hard work at positively impacting our community has helped them or others they know.”

               “Very good, I most certainly will,” Reginald answered. “I think we will need at least an hour before we can all gather, giving everyone time to gather their thoughts about this. I will have everyone in the formal dining room in one hour.”

               Barclay and his household employees gathered in the formal dining room, at which time he could feel the tension in the room. “Thank you everyone for joining me this afternoon. As some of you may know, I and the family companies have been putting in a great deal of effort and money at improving our communities. I called you all here to receive your feedback on how this money and effort has positively impacted you or your loved ones.”

               When he sat down, he could feel the tension immediately dissipate. A middle-aged woman stood and spoke, communicating her deep appreciation for the work done by the Barclay family line.

               “I wanted to share my observations about the state of our communities, about how cleaner and safer everything has become,” she said. “It is a beautiful thing to see so few people lingering about the streets and more people earning an income to provide for their families.”

               A young woman sitting next to her rose to her feet when the older woman sat down. “I too agree with Abigail’s observations,” she said. “I believe I can speak for everyone here that we are all seeing the same thing and experiencing the improvement that has taken place over the last several weeks. We are all in agreement in saying thank you for your concern for the common people and your generous pay to all of us. Thank you, sir.”

               “Yes, of course,” Barclay answered. “I appreciate your time, your effort and your willingness to share your thoughts. You are all excused. I and the family companies will continue this work for many years to come. Have an enjoyable rest of your day.”

Four That Became One

 

            The birthing center at the local hospital sat in absolute silence, while the nurses, the doctors, and the receptionists milled around the nearly empty premises, doing their best to remain busy, cleaning when necessary, interacting with the two patients who had recently delivered children the day before. When the head doctor realized that little to nothing was taking place and what seemed to be busy work was adding nothing of value to their day, he called a meeting in the conference room.

               “Hello, everyone, thank you for coming in,” he said. “It is pretty obvious that we have nothing to do, other than caring for our two patients and their newborns. Everyone please choose somewhere comfortable to sit, enjoy one another’s company and hopefully we will see more patients arrive before the evening comes to an end. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

               As the room slowly emptied, the doctor glanced at his watch and noticed that they had only three hours left in the evening before the birthing center would be closed. The mechanical whirring of the front doors stirred everyone’s attention, to reveal a pregnant woman and a panicked husband hurrying toward the front desk. A gurney was brought from a back room, upon which the woman was laid and whisked into a delivery room.

               The frantic husband was cornered by a nurse to complete the necessary paperwork, offered a chamomile tea and given a place to sit while his wife dilated to her full ten centimeters. Thirty minutes later another frantic couple hurried through the front doors, to be followed thirty minutes later by a third couple and then an hour later by a fourth couple.

               “Wow, do you believe this?” the head doctor said to his staff. “Looks like our passion for work to do has been fulfilled. Everyone stay attentive, be ready for four deliveries in the next few minutes. Nurse Johnson, I believe now would be a good time to call in the local priest. It is times like this that his kind of assistance and encouragement is particularly helpful.”

               Four frantic husbands wandered around the waiting room, exchanged words of concern, offering words of encouragement, and discussing their shared experiences. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could really use a couple shots of tequila right now and at the same time, I know that this wouldn’t be a good idea,” one man said. The whisking of the front doors drew all of their attention, to watch a Roman priest casually enter the waiting room. The man drew near to the four of them, encouraged them to join him in a circle of seats in order to share a few words.

               “The important thing to remember gentlemen is that you are here to encourage and be strong for your wives,” he said. “It is times like this that they need you, your strength, and your support. We need to receive permission from the nurses for all of you to be with your wives as they deliver.” The priest then rose from his seat, disappeared into a side hallway and returned with the head nurse to encourage the men to find their wives and support them.

               Within one hour of his arrival, the priest moved from room to room, visiting each mother who had just delivered their child and spoke a single word as he gazed upon each infant. “Wisdom,” he said as he looked at the first child. “Courage,” he said, as he looked at the second child, “Purity,” he said as he looked at the third child, and “Humility,” he said as he looked at the fourth child. He gathered the four fathers in the waiting room. “Remember those words gentlemen,” he said. “They will be the primary characteristics of your children. I felt something special and peculiar when I entered a few minutes ago. I believe that these four children will be connected in a special way and will act as one to positively impact those around them.”

               As he finished his final words, he excused himself and left the building to return to his empty home. The four men exchanged names, exchanged phone numbers, email addresses, and schedules. Five years passed and the four families remained in contact, to eventually see all four little boys begin attending the same elementary school. One more year passed, then five years, and then six more years passed to see all four boys intimately connected to graduate together with a beautiful, warm friendship between them and their families.

               In a small celebration of the four families, the four husbands recalled the words of the priest about each boy’s primary characteristics. “It really is remarkable,” he said. “That odd little priest was exactly right in his four words of our four sons. I am excited to see where they go after this, what they accomplish, and how they impact everyone around us. I know my son is planning on attending university for a vocation in social work.”

               The celebration ended, the four families departed to their homes, and each one had an identical conversation upon arriving home. “Dad, Mom,” each boy said, “all four of us having been talking and we are all planning on going to the same university. We have basically become like one person and cannot imagine being separated for the next four years. We have all made plans to stay connected, do more, be more, and create a better world.”

               The next three months of summer passed, the four boys all met at the train station with their luggage, said goodbye to their parents, and traveled several hours away to begin their next journey in life. The train stopped at the station and Moses, the largest of them all, led the way toward an Uber ride that he had ordered to bring them to the university. They rode in silence for about twenty minutes, emerged from the vehicle, found their dorm, received their roommate instructions, happy to learn that the four of them would be in two rooms in the same hallway.

               The two groups of two boys each separated into their rooms, began unpacking and joined together to find the cafeteria for lunch. Moses, the largest and bravest of the four of them, stood as a guardian and protector of them all, creating an air of control and courage, communicating to any and all around them that these four were not ones to be messed with. Maximus, the smallest among them, carried within his head and heart a wisdom that far surpassed his years.

“Let’s finish our meal, find our class schedules, and see if we can make some connections with other students,” he said. “We don’t want to be seen as oddballs or outcasts. The more friends we have the better.”

“That is a great idea,” Paul said with his typical humility. “We need to be careful in how we interact, how we present ourselves, and do our best to become well known, understood, and respected. Okay, it looks like we’re all done eating, let’s go find our schedules, other students, and make some connections. This will definitely be interesting.”

The four boys rose from their seats, with Moses in the lead, standing eight or nine inches taller than the rest of them. They emerged from the cafeteria, crossed the open grassy patch of lawn before them, entered their dorm, and found the dorm head to obtain their schedules. They took the stairs to the third floor, milled around the hallway, spoke to several other students, and Samuel did his best to avoid eye contact with the many girls that frequently approached him. “Guys, this is really difficult,” he said. “Why do the girls always hunt me down? I simply want to focus on my studies, on helping others, and being a positive influence on everyone else.”

“Yes, Samuel, we understand your plight,” Paul said. “There is something about your that seems to draw the girls over. I wish that was a problem I had. But no, you and your insistence on purity, chastity, and waiting until marriage is all good and right. But I really don’t think all of these girls are going to stop looking for your attention. We’ll do the best we can to help you out of this struggle you have always faced.”

Four years of university passed, Moses remained the massive, imposing, protecting guardian of his three friends. At the same time, Maximus continued to speak words of wisdom, guidance, and good advice, when his friends were faced with problems or struggles. Paul remained the one with a level head, always working to bring an air of humility for himself and his friends, reminding them that not everyone has the type of friendship they enjoy or the loving, healthy families in which they grew up.

Graduation day came, all four families converged on the university, the four boys took four different jobs in four different cities. Within five years, Moses married, Maximus married, and Paul married, leaving Samuel alone with his commitment to chastity and devotion to doing good for others. Moses, Maximus, Paul and Samuel remained in contact, maintaining an unusual connection that seemed spiritual on some level. They synchronized their vacations, introduced their wives, and made a consistent effort to meet many times each year.

Moses, Maximus, and Paul could all see the loneliness, the emptiness, and the seeming lack of direction in Samuel. They knew that suggesting marriage to him was a fruitless effort, for he was committed to chastity and purity. As each man succeeded in his particular vocation, they began a combined effort to build a company that provided work opportunities and philanthropy for those in need. As their families grew and as they grew old, they watched their combined efforts grow into something beautiful and productive. 

Safe in the Quiet

 

            Donald sat alone in his tiny home, celebrating his 65^th birthday in solitude, a chocolate cake with white frosting tempting him to consume the entire thing in one setting, of course accompanied by a glass of milk. He cut the cake into four pieces, looked at his watch to realize that it was seven forty-five in the evening, a full two hours after dinner. He slid the first slice onto his plate to deliberately take his time consuming the large slice of cake that introduced a joy that he rarely ever experienced.

              With a slight groan, he unbuttoned his pants, finished the first slice and the glass of milk and immediately began eyeballing the idea of eating a second slice. “Phew, it’s already eight thirty,” he groaned. “Wow, that is a lot of sugar. Okay, give yourself another thirty minutes before tackling the second piece.”

              Nine o’clock rolled around and he gave into his passions, slid the second slice of cake onto his plate and like the first, slowly worked through consuming a ridiculous amount of sugar. “Phew, okay, that’s enough for one evening,” he said to himself. “Ugh, I need to lie down and distract myself with something other than eating more cake.”

              He strolled down the hallway, threw his clothes into the hamper, took a cool shower, dried off, put on his sleep shorts, his socks, and a t-shirt to then lie down and resist the urge to eat more cake. Staring onto a highly textured ceiling above his bed, his mind began to run from one thought to the next to the next and to the next. “Wow, so much distraction the first fifty years of my life, so many people, so many pointless conversations, so much entertainment, and so many missed opportunities.”

              Donald reached back into his oldest memories, of time spent with friends while in middle school, playing games, watching movies, and attending concerts. “So much noise, so much distraction, so much pointless activity and wasted time,” he grumbled. “I need to do something different.”

              His home, beautifully decorated in a wealthy neighborhood, surrounded by similar expensive homes, his memories began to pick at him for time spent, money spent, and the reason for living, for existing, and for continuing on a path that provided no real joy. “Okay, that’s it, I’ll get hold of a realtor tomorrow, list the house, sell it, and find a reasonable replacement in some obscure corner in the depth of a forest with no neighbors and no opportunities to waste my time.”

              Uncertain of exactly when he fell asleep, Donald rolled to his side, opened one eye to catch a glimpse of the clock to realize that he had slept past his regular seven a.m. wake time. “Okay, time to clean the house, call the realtor and get this glorious gem listed and sold.” After a quick shower to cool off, he worked through the house from front to back, cleaning, organizing, and leaving each room in pristine condition to leave a good impression when the realtor visited for an assessment.

              Two hours after finishing his cleaning and organizational efforts, the realtor arrived with a camera, a notebook, and a laptop. Donald answered more questions that he ever imagined could be asked of him. By the end of the day, the realtor called him with his assessment and a request to come over and complete the paperwork for the listing.

              “Yes, seven p.m. would be fine,” Donald said. “Oh, one other thing, I need you to find me a small and simple home somewhere deep in a forest, obscure, unknown, with no neighbors, preferably within an hour of an actual town or community.”

              “Yes, I can do that, Donald,” the realtor said. “I’ll be arriving at your home at seven o’clock. I am sure what we can get everything in order and find you the home you have pictured in your mind. See you soon.”

              The realtor arrived, joined Donald at the kitchen table, who then exhumed a ridiculous amount of paperwork, of which Donald signed his name upon more times than he could count. “Alright, great,” the realtor said. “I’ll put all of this together tomorrow morning. Also, I found five homes that I think match your description, and we can go over them tonight if you’d like.”

              “Perfect, yes, let’s take a look,” Donald said. The realtor pulled out a folder with the listing details and a map showing the location of each.

              “I’ll quickly work through these,” the realtor said. “We can spend a few minutes on each one and I’ll leave the paperwork with you to pick through, study through, and make decisions on. I’ll call you in the morning once your house is actually listed and visible to the rest of the real estate market.”

              “That’s great,” Donald answered. “I will spend a good deal of time looking over these listings and hopefully my house will generate enough interest to sell quickly. I look forward to receiving your call in the morning. Have a good evening.”

              Donald returned to his table, spread out the listings, studied the map with each location and made a mental note of travel time and distance to the closest towns or communities. Two of the listings were immediately rejected as needing too much work or were too close to neighbors. “Okay, then, that leaves three possible homes, all very similar, close in price, and beautifully secluded. I’ll need to put them in order of preference.”

              Within nine days of his house being listed on the market, he received three offers after five showings. Within two weeks of completing the sale paperwork, he realized that he had seven weeks to pack all of his belongings, visit the three homes that met his preferences and hopefully make an offer that would be accepted.

              After a second meeting with his realtor, he and the realtor traveled to each of the three homes for a viewing, during which time Donald took notes, took photographs, and asked a lot of questions. Deciding on the second home as one that would meet his needs, he made an offer which was accepted within twenty-four hours, an opportunity that kicked all of his activity into full speed.

              By the end of the week, he and the seller completed their paperwork, he hired a moving company to load all of his belongings into trucks to be moved from a busy neighborhood to a beautiful and secluded corner of a forest. He watched the moving company carry the last of his belongings out of the house, to then pause and look into the now empty and relatively cool house that once was his home. He followed the moving truck as it weaved through the neighborhood, out of town, and into the deep forest.

              The truck pulled into the driveway of his new home, backed up to the front door, at which time he retrieved a dining room chair from the truck to sit and watch from the center of the living room while all of his belongings were carefully placed in each room. The house immediately fell silent, leaving Donald in a new home, alone, in silence, breathing easy as he knew that he had escaped from the noise and chaos of city life.

              “Phew, that is so much better,” he said out loud. “Maybe I should get a cat. A little feline company would be nice.” He had barely spoken the words when he realized that he had left the front door open and was joined by a rather skittish cat that had emerged from some obscure corner of the woods. “Would you look at that. I guess all I had to do was ask the question and here he is.”

              The Victorian rug rested against the living room wall, begging to be opened and spread out. Donald turned the rug into place, gave it a kick and watched it unroll to create an inviting and comfortable place to lie down and spread out. As soon as he laid himself out spread eagle, the cat immediately lay down on his soft and warm stomach. “Hey there buddy,” he said. “I need to give you a name, how about Larry? Does that name suit you at all?”

              “Phew, I need something to eat. It has been a long time since I ate breakfast. Time to get up and satiate this wretched emptiness,” he grumbled. “Wow, this is going to take a long time to get everything in place, unpacked, and make livable. After a quick meal, I’ll get the bathroom and the bedroom in order so I can have a decent sleep and spend tomorrow getting everything else in place.”

              His internal clock woke him at his regular seven a.m. time, leaving him somewhat confused regarding his location and where to begin. “Breakfast, I need to eat first,” he said. “I’ll eat then I’ll get the kitchen in order and move from room to room. I hope everything is clean. It does not get any better than this. I can hear nothing, no cars, no airplanes, no chaos and noise from city and neighbors. This solitude and silence will be wonderful. There is nothing better than sitting on the front porch, watching wildlife, hearing only wind and seeing a multitude of shades of green.”

              “Let’s get this house in order first,” he said out loud. “I wonder if anyone knows that I’m here. The closest neighbors are nowhere near, so this might be an interesting existence for who knows how long.” After four hours of organizing, unloading boxes, and moving around furniture, Donald found a cold drink, sat on his front porch and relished the lack of noise and distraction.

Wrong Goal, Wrong Perspective

 

            Julius and his mother visited the library every Tuesday afternoon after he finished his day of homeschooling. His mother and father instilled in him a love for learning, for reading, and for setting his standard for life higher than anyone else he knew. In the fall following his fifth birthday, he would spend four hours a day learning the basics of a foundational education until he reached his fourteenth year when he learned that none of his friends or neighbors stayed home for school, prompting him to ask permission to attend high school with his friends.

              After receiving permission from his parents, he also received a warning from them that he would find the public school system less than challenging, boring, and years behind his current academic state of mind. Julius waited at his front door on the first day of school, knowing that his friend Alexander would be arriving in mere moments to save him from needing to ride the bus.

              The two boys drove into the parking lot, retrieved their backpacks from the back seat and blended into the stream of students to receive their locker numbers, their class schedules, and instructions to join an all-school assembly in the auditorium. Julius and Alexander floated through the hallways in search of their lockers, deposited their bags therein and followed the stream of all others into the auditorium to find their seats in a sea of fellow students.

              The assembly ended and Julius shifted from class to class, from week to week, from month to month, and eventually began voicing his disappointment to his parents about the simplistic drivel from his teachers, from the mindless, thoughtless, and seemingly pointless dialog from his fellow students. “All of the guys seem only interested in finding a girlfriend, learning just enough to pass each class, and what work they’re going to do in the coming summer,” he complained.

              “It seems we didn’t prepare you deeply enough for the pathetic, frustrating, and mindless social interaction into which you have immersed yourself,” his father said. “I am going to guess that everything the teachers are hoping to communicate with you are subjects you already fully understand. Give the impression of making an effort to learn, ask questions, and answer when asked questions in class but be careful not to come across as a know it all.”

              “Yes, father, I figured that out after the first couple weeks of school,” he said. “I know you warned me about this, so I play along with the lessons that are delivered, none of them being a challenge of any sort. I intentionally answer one or two questions incorrectly on some of the quizzes and tests.”

              “Be careful with following that path,” his mother said. “Your grades will be surveyed and critiqued by the school and by universities that will be interested in having you attend their institutions.”

              “There has been a great deal of talk about attending university,” he said. “I have an assignment due at the end of this month which requires me to choose a vocational path and name a few universities that I find most appealing and interesting. So, I need to put that together sooner than later. We are supposed to share our thoughts and plans with the entire class, so it will be interesting to hear what the other students have created. I’ll share their findings once we all complete our presentations.”

              The end of the month was finally reached, Julius returned home from school, joined his parents for dinner and dove into a lengthy diatribe about what he heard from his fellow students. “Honestly, it was really depressing listening to them try to describe their plans, their hopes, and their life goals. From the other boys, the stories were all the same. They were aiming for high paying jobs, large comfortable homes, fancy cars, elegant clothing, and attention from co-workers and neighbors.”

              “Tell me about your thoughts on all of that,” his father said.

              “I’ll describe the stories that were shared by the girls in the class first,” Julius said. “Just like the boys they all said basically the same thing. They wanted a handsome, successful, and wealthy husband who would provide for all of their wants and needs. A few of them said they wanted to have one or two children, live in comfort, and annually travel around the world.”

              “Having children is a good thing,” his mother said. “As long as they raise them to be honest, hardworking, and respectful people. That is the sad reality of most people, to live in comfort, to buy things one doesn’t really need, and go on vacation as a distraction.”

              “So, here are my thoughts,” he said. “I shared my dreams and plans and heard more than a few people laugh behind their hands and roll their eyes. I shared that my plans were to live comfortably without focusing on being wealthy, without being distracted, and providing help and support for those in need. After hearing so many plans and dreams about being obscenely wealthy and living in comfort, my heart somewhat melted at the idea of someone being so selfish that they could only think of themselves.”

              “Many of them showed images of the homes, the cars, and the clothing they longed to have,” he continued. “I had to fight very hard not to question them on their life choices, on how being selfish is never a good thing, and why they only focused on their own comfort rather than being generous. Alexander and I had a lengthy conversation on all of this throughout the rest of the day and on the drive home. I’m sad to say that he is no different than the rest of the students.”

              “I am very proud of you, son,” his father said. “You are the only one thinking rightly about money, about possessions, and about caring for others. I’m excited to see the path you eventually choose once you graduate.”

              Julius’ fourth year of high school came to its completion, and he made no plans for attending university, convinced that another four years of school would be identical to the last four years he barely managed to endure. Over the three months following graduation, he eventually found a job that was truly helpful and beneficial to others and paid a reasonable wage, which allowed him to move into his own apartment and begin interacting with his neighbors.

              After three months of work, he managed to organize his finances in a way that covered his needs and left enough of a cushion to help others. When he received each paycheck, he deposited ten percent of it into a savings account with plans to travel to another country that did not know the comforts and pleasures of the western world. He worked for a total of five years to eventually save enough to accomplish his greatly desired travel plans.

              He informed his parents of his plans, turned in his resignation, joined a philanthropic organization, bought a plane ticket and traveled to eastern Europe to volunteer his time in helping orphans, widows, homeless people, and those in dire need. After six months in the darkest inner city of a very poor society, he put in every effort to make the lives of those he met better than his own. He took nothing extra for himself, he lived on only what was necessary and often thought about his classmates in high school and if any of them had achieved their goals of wealth and comfort.

              As he reached his fortieth birthday, he read through his notes documenting the transition his new culture had taken since his arrival. He reminisced about the many children he fed, clothed, and found homes for across the nation. The idea of passing on this responsibility to others in his new community at the right time when he would return home to visit his parents, interact with his former friends, and see how life had progressed in the United States during his absence.

              Julius spent the next nine months speaking with those he deemed responsible enough and mature enough to take over his role as helper for the many in need. He eventually decided on three young men, encouraging them to divide the city into three parts, each one taking a portion as their responsibility. He watched and waited for three months as they stepped into their new roles and found himself very pleased with the progress these young men were making.

              When the three months had passed, he met with the young men, informed them of his decision to return to his home country and for them to continue doing what they had been doing since he retired from his work. “I want to also encourage you to continue this work until you begin to feel old and then find others to take over your responsibilities. This is a work that must never stop, for there will always be those who have needs.”

              Kristof, Sergei, and Mladen all agreed to follow his instruction, to continue their work and to find others to take over for them once they reached the limit of their abilities. “Speaking for all of us,” Mladen interjected, “we promise to keep this work going and to pass on your message to those who follow after us. This is a good and beautiful work that must never stop and perpetually continue. Thank you for starting this work so many years ago and for choosing us to continue this path.”

              It was with a heavy heart that Julius sold or gave away most of his possessions before taking advantage of a ride to the airport to return home. He assured himself that handing over his work to the three responsible young men was the right thing to do. “I cannot do everything myself,” he told himself. “I have been gone for so long and have accomplished many great things in my time away. The neighborhoods surrounding my former home are now in a much better place.”