Category : Articles

Sub Category : Relationships

There was this story I was told a long time ago about a young soldier who was deployed to some godforsaken war zone. He fought his battle, honored his country and defended his countrymen. He was among the brave.

But he got hurt in the battle and was sent to the nearest peace zone country for medical assistance. Once he was better, he was sent back home to his base. There, he called his parents.

"Mom, dad, I'm back at camp and I'd like to come home," he said, tears welled at the thought of being home with his parents again. He was feeling emotional. 

"Sure, son, come on home," his parents said. Relief and excitement were clear in their response.

"I have a favour to ask of you, if you don't mind," the brave soldier said as he held his breath and crossed his fingers for good luck.

"Name it, son. What is it? You want me to cook your favorite meal?" his mom asked. In her head she was already thinking of various recipes.

"No, mom," he replied quickly, "but thanks. Actually, I want to bring a friend home with me. He was injured too and he doesn't have any family."

Thinking that their son must have made some really good friends while he was out fighting for their country, the parents were happy to meet someone who had served alongside their son. "Sure, son. Bring him home," they said.

He felt a momentary sense of relief but he also felt an obligation to prepare his parents in the best way he possibly could. 

"Mom, dad, there is something you need to know about him," he said carefully. "See, he accidentally stepped on a landmine. He lost both his legs and an arm. But he's fine, they fixed him up good. He won't be any trouble at all."

There was a sudden silence. For a moment he thought his parents had hung up on him. A chill ran down his spine at the thought of rejection. He was about to hang up the phone when his father's voice broke the silence. 

"Oh Son," his father said, "we feel for your friend but I don't think you should bring him home with you. Dealing with an invalid is not a joke. We're sure he'll be fine. He'll find his own way."

Hearing those words from his father, he quietly ended the call. 

A few days later, there was a knock at the soldier's parents' house. When they answered the door, they were met with the chaplain and two other army officers. The officers handed them a short note written by their son. 

The note read.... "Dear mom and dad, I won't be coming home after all because by the time you read this, I'll be dead and gone. See, I wasn't going to bring home an invalid friend with me. The person I was talking about was me, your son. But you made it plain that you won't be able to handle the burden of taking care of an invalid so don't worry mom and dad, you won't have to." 

It was signed, "Your loving son".

The soldier was heartbroken by the reaction he got from his parents that he began to believe he was nothing more but a burden. Depressed by that realization, he took his own life.

What is wrong with the picture here? 
Does one place a certain measurement on love? 
Does love comes with certain conditions? 
And if one doesn't measure up to those conditions that were put upon them, do they become unworthy of that love?