Parson

She told him he was destined for a life of service, and being that she was his mother, he never questioned it. At his young age he interpreted her words as living a pious perfect life. It would take years of experience to realize how narrow his scope had been. 

His mother was proud of his choices, but her appreciative smile never reached her eyes. This only made him strive for more–be more. The friends he could have made gave him a wide birth, and his mother’s smile only faded. He prayed for that smile to return, but he never lost hope. He would make her proud. It was his purpose. 

As a young man he secured a position far out in the country in a small villiage–his piety would be rewarded. He would make a difference with so small a flock. 

His mother wished him well, but did not consent to join him. She preferred the city life, but she would visit once he was settled. His heart was heavy at the thought of leaving her and the only home he knew, but he was off to serve all he could. 

His days were routine, but spiritually fulfilling. The members of the villiage were welcoming, even if they were still a bit slow to trust after being under the guidance of somone much older and wiser for so long. Still, he worked hard and knew in time he would earn their trust just as his predocessor had. 

That all began to change one unseasonably warm autumn day. He decided to enjoy the sunshine and prepare his notes for the week in the nearby orchard. He wasn’t alone in his thoughts. The pretty, young daughter of the shopkeeper decided to take shelter there as well. 

He made for a hasty exit, but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm and implored him to stay. He was too polite to refuse and they spent the afternoon talking about anything and everything. The reason they both came to the orchard long forgotten in mutual companionship. 

Upon returning home his mind and heart were confused and desperate. For the first time in his life he wanted something more than the life of service his mother so desired for him. 

He held his head in his hands hoping for some sign. On his desk was a book of poems–his book of poems from childhood. His mother must have hidden it amongst his other books before he left. 

He was compelled to take the book in his hands and find solace in its pages as he’d done so many times before. This time a slip of paper fell into his lap. His eyes grew wide as he recognized his mother’s hand. 

I am proud of the man you have become, but remember part of service is to serve yourself as well. Don’t lose sight of your life because of one thing someone–even your mother–told you all those years ago. Find happiness in life, and you will have the greatest reward.

His heart started to pound, and years of regret lifted from his shoulders. He now knew why his mother’s smile faded. He’d lost himself on his foolish quest. She would be happy when he found happiness. 

It was so simple, but he’d missed all the signs. He could live a good life of service, but it didn’t mean he had to be unhappy to do just that. 

Today was a new day. Today, he would start actually living.