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.”

Lost in Excellence

 

Ambrose grew up in a family of those radically different from himself with nothing more on their mind but television, sports, and the pursuit of social interaction. Fortunately, he inherited his grandfather’s intelligence, passion for excellence, and love of music. He always knew that he was the outsider, the odd one, that one child with whom no one could seem to connect. He put in a great effort to be sociable, to be athletic, and to connect with others, but all along it all felt so foreign and contrary to his nature.

It was when he finally reached high school that the stark reality of his robust contrariness became painfully aware. He had many acquaintances and very few actual friends, for there was almost no one with whom he could connect on any level, whether it be intellectually, academically, or spiritually. He passed through each day of life, knowing that those around him were blissfully unaware of the depth, width, and potential that life offered them.

The more he interacted, the more he realized that almost no one else was interested in becoming something great, missing out on so much potential for growth, and the pursuit of excellence. The distraction of school, its social cliques, and its empty vanity drove him away from the possible path of university, for he knew that four more years of education would be more of the same environment.

After graduation, he poured himself into self-taught education, choosing topics of interest to make himself as widely educated as possible, choosing music, philosophy, religion, and anthropology to make the greatest effort to understand how all fields of knowledge connected, and how people approached life. As each year passed by, he became more and more disappointed in the trajectory of those around him, all of them seemed content with mediocrity.

Unwilling to condescend to the status quo, he made every effort to find answers to the many questions that plagued him, writing down questions and then finding answers. In what seemed to be one out of a thousand, he would find someone who was moderately interested in similar fields as he, which would occasionally stimulate conversations that barely scratched the surface of where his mind was going.

He finally gave up any hope of ever finding someone with a heart and mind like his, to instead pour himself into wife and children, doing all he could to support them both financially and emotionally. Not one to distract himself with toys, he put great effort into making the most of their financial situation, improving every detail of their lives to move them forward with greater goals in mind.

He and his made every effort to improve their situation, moving from one house to another, one community to another, one city to another, one state to another, and eventually landed with good people who encouraged them all toward that which was good and right. With this new community, he could feel a good shift in their reality as they were able to get away from the empty mediocrity of the common communities that had surrounded them for so many decades.

Like one moving from a meal of fast food to home cooking, he could see the difference in quality, but it was several years later that he finally realized that the previous step upward was only a good first move, for there was much more out there and ahead of them which was considerably better, capable of bringing them to an even better place.

Many more years passed, and Ambrose only continued to be disappointed with ninety-nine percent of the population as they were all content with mediocrity, while he was pushing himself to become more, to become better, and to be one who offered something of excellence to those around him. It made him sad to realize that despite his best efforts, most were not interested in what he was offering.

“Keep it simple, talk to those around you like you’re talking to a fourth grader,” was a comment he received from others. Feeling like a deflated balloon, he began to wonder about the passion he had for excellence, the disdain he received from others as they realized that he and they were in radical different realities. “What you say is confusing,” is another comment he would often receive.

“Well, there’s not much I can do about that,” he would say to himself. “If others had moved themselves to a place where there is no intellectual or academic challenge, I shouldn’t be surprised that they cannot keep up and become confused.”

At the same time, he struggled to avoid pride and arrogance, knowing that pride is man’s greatest downfall. He worked very hard to give people the benefit of the doubt, wondering if his words or actions actually accomplished what he hoped to accomplish in his own life or in the lives of others.

“Ugh, there is nothing worse than looking into the face of someone else as I’m explaining myself and only seeing confusion,” he grumbled to himself. “What to do, what to do.” As the years continued to pass, he could feel himself drifting away from any genuine contact with others, knowing that his passion to help and educate was typically ignored and found confusing by most of those with whom he interacted.

“They will hate you because of me,” was the phrase that often came to mind as he failed in his attempts at connecting with most people. “Ugh, describing excellent music, excellent art, challenging academia, and anything of genuine beauty always fails,” he grumbled to himself. “I suppose I need to resolve myself to the fact that I operate on a different plane, in a different reality, and on a different level than ninety-nine percent of the people with whom I interact.”

Day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year, he began focusing on learning from those in the past, whose lives were built around rejecting the inanity of the world, the emptiness of vanity, and the lack of focus on things of value. “The goal is not wealth, the goal is not comfort, the goal is not distraction but instead is a difficult path of challenge and the pursuit of holiness, being different from the rest of the world.”

His library continued to grow, his written output continually increased, and his interaction with those around the world grew into the thousands, positively impacting their lives, pressing them toward holiness, toward a passion for that which is good and right, and encouraging them to think about actual reality, on the end goal of holiness, and the tools for achieving the practice of loving one’s neighbor.

“If you don’t love your neighbor,” he told them, “then you cannot love God.” The path that Ambrose chose was a difficult one, a journey that required dependence not upon himself or his own strength but upon listening to, focusing on, and seeking the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He knew that he was not strong enough, that he was too easily distracted, and could not depend upon himself to reach the end goal.

He maintained his many routines, his struggle against his passions, and continually hoped for someone to move into his life that would offer wisdom, guidance, strength, and love. He hoped that his person would move him toward holiness and hopefully he would help them move toward holiness, a beautiful image of reciprocity. The reality of his connection to the past, the high bar set by the holy ones of centuries before made his longed-for new reality one that would most likely never come to pass.

Decades of disappointment, in others and in himself, left him in this position of solitude, with a level of excellence so above and beyond, that he could only continue to struggle, refusing to lower himself to others less than adequate expectations. He created a metaphor in his mind of a parallel of a man knowing the quality of prime rib and being asked to be content with bologna. Like one who had grown up with classical music and being told to be content with country western music.

Stubbornness, resistance, and a refusal to succumb to the low standards kept him in this solitary place, ever moving forward, upward, and toward an eternity that promised true joy and contentment as opposed to the drivel and emptiness offered by ignorance and distraction. “Better solitude and holiness than disappearing into a crowd of insignificance,” he thought.

A Source of Happiness

 

            Ellis sat alone during his lunch break, silently watching the fourteen other people in his office effortlessly interact, chat, and laugh with one another. If he was to be brutally honest with himself, he knew he was not the most sociable person, the most friendly person, or one who put in effort to connect with others. He thought back over his childhood, his high school years, and his years in university, to recognize that his personality had been the same throughout all this time.

              Thankful for the Reuben sandwich that graced his plate, the sweet tea, and the side order of onion rings, a warm, tangy, and delightful meal that had been delivered a mere five minutes before his lunch hour began. He finished his beautiful meal, rose from his seat, disposed of his trash, slipped out to the restroom, and washed his hands, appalled at the greasy residue left upon his fingers.

              He started to return to the lunchroom to then pause, recollect his thoughts, and change his trajectory to the stairwell that led to the outdoor garden that graced the roof of their office building. Standing at least four floors higher than all other buildings in the vicinity, he drifted through the hundreds of flowers, plants, and small bushes that created a wonderful Eden-like setting.

              He approached the edge of the roof, looked out across the city to catch a distant glance of a park a mere six blocks away. “Something needs to change,” he muttered to himself. “Honestly, I am a pleasant person, a thoughtful person, and one who genuinely cares for the wellbeing of others. I guess this will force me out of my comfortable personal bubble.”

              The last few hours of Friday passed, he expressed good wishes upon his co-workers before taking the elevator to the main floor. He escaped to the sidewalk, found the stairwell to the Tube, rode in the midst of hundreds of strangers until he emerged only one block from his flat at the Aldgate stop. As he slipped above ground, he walked past “The Guild Church of St. Katherine Cree”, its gray bricks hinting at its century’s old history, an impressive tower that he could see from his bedroom window.

              Ellis was not one who was ever particularly religious, and the thought of connecting with the Anglican priest at the church surfaced in his mind, with the hope of receiving some sort of direction and help as to how to better interact with people. He ascended the stairs to his flat, looked across the open space at the impressive visage of the church. He then searched for the church website in hopes of finding their hours for the coming Sunday, with a plan in mind to arrive early, interact with the priest and hopefully receive some direction and wisdom.

              As the dinner hour arrived, he walked a few blocks to a local pub to order fish and chips, a Guinness, and chat a bit with the waitress who previously had seemed sweet on him. He finished his dinner, ordered a second Guinness, and maintained a steady course home, working hard not to look overly touched by the volume of dark beer he had just consumed. He smiled and waved at everyone he saw on the street, worked his way up his stairs, took a shower and watched a movie until nearly midnight.

              Before collapsing into bed, he set his alarm for Sunday morning two hours before the Anglican service began. “Let’s make Saturday a day of rest, relaxation, and maybe a walk to the park. Maybe I’ll call Maggie and see if she wants to join me on a visit to the park, and a light lunch afterward.”

              His Saturday passed in a lovely way, enjoying his time with Maggie, a wonderful lunch, and plenty of relaxation time until nighttime fell upon the city. The clanging of the alarm pulled him from sleep on Sunday morning, confused, he sat up, tried to remember why his alarm was sounding, remembered his plans for the Friday before, took a shower, and toddled to the church less than a block away.

              As he entered the nearly empty sanctuary, he motioned for the priest, and the two of them engaged in a pleasant conversation, with Ellis explaining his social conundrum, asking for help as to how to overcome his social ineptitude. “Thank you for reaching out, Ellis,” the priest said. “Social interaction and friendship are very important aspects of one’s life. I want you to think about the kind of people with whom you like to spend your time. Please share your thoughts.”

              “Oh, yeah, that makes a lot of sense,” he said. “I usually find people who are humorous and bring joy into my life as good people with whom to associate.”

              “Well, there you go,” he said. “If that is what you like, it’s probably safe to say that other people would have the same feelings and ideas.”

              “Thank you for your time, Father,” he said. “I’m not a religious person so I will probably not stay for the service. I appreciate your guidance and wisdom.”

              Ellis returned to his flat, took off his shoes, sat down at his dining room table, and began taking notes, documenting what the priest had told him. He found a light breakfast in his refrigerator, relaxed around his flat, and decided to wander around through the local shops with the hopes of finding several people with whom to chat, to laugh with and hopefully positively influence.

              Feeling jovial, filled with breakfast and inspired from the words from the priest, he made his way downtown to find several open shops filled with people. He challenged himself to interact with at least four or five people in each shop, finding that being friendly, talkative, and humorous brought out the best in others. His plan was a smashing success as he made several new friends, new contacts, and exchanged phone numbers with at least a dozen people.

              After enjoying a long afternoon with new friends, he finally returned home to make himself dinner and enjoy a movie. The next week of work was radically different than normal, as he continued to exercise his effort of friendly interaction. Friday came around and he repeated the activity from the previous Friday. He relaxed around his flat, strolled to the local pub, continued to practice his friendly interaction, and reconnected with the waitress.

              Once again setting his alarm for the Sunday morning service at St. Katherine’s Guild Church, he entered the comfortably full sanctuary, took a seat in the middle, and made a special point to watch those around him. After a short time, he found all of the others in attendance were very friendly and was invited to stay for lunch after the service. This became his new routine for Sunday morning. Months passed, then years passed, and Ellis became the one to whom people went when they needed to be encouraged and filled with joy.

              Upon reaching his seventieth year, he began to make friends with a young man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere and connected with the parish. Ellis shared his story with the young man, encouraged him to continue the work of being the source of joy for those around him, for he knew that he did not have too many years left.

              It was with great joy that he watched the young man put in great effort to be more friendly, more interactive, which allowed Ellis to in a practical sense, hand over the role of bringer of joy to his new friend, Thomas. It was on his eightieth birthday that Ellis slowly slumped to his side as he sat upon the wooden pew, still filled with joy, and he felt himself beginning to grow cold.

              All sound, all smells, and all activity suddenly ceased as he drifted off into eternity. Ellis had no family and chose to leave all of his financial wellbeing to the parish, setting aside an abundant amount of money for the young man who thankfully took over his role as bringer of joy. Even though he was not cognitively present, Ellis’ funeral was well attended, with many kind words from the thousands of people he had filled with joy and loved in his many years at the parish.

              Thomas, the young man who took on Ellis’ role as bringer of joy, was the last one to speak, communicating all that Ellis had shared with him, and the incredible joy he had infused into him, teaching him to be the one who people loved to be with, interact with, and be loved by.  As he spoke, he said, “I have one more thing to share with you all. Ellis told me to make the bringing of joy into people’s lives my main goal and not to allow this responsibility to die with me and like him, and to find a successor to take over when I too would grow old. Ellis was truly a blessing for all of us. Thank you all for attending and saying goodbye to our beautiful friend Ellis.”