Category : Stories

Sub Category : Childrens

Perhaps long ago, there was a man named Richard. Richard was well to-do-- he had had plenty of money, ever since he could remember. His father was famous for acting, and he achieved great success when he decided to start his own company. (Admittedly, his company sold socks, but they sold them worldwide, and after all, socks are a perfectly respectable thing to sell!)

Being middle aged, Richard began to be faced with his own mortality. Thoughts like "What really matters?" "How am I impacting the world around me?" and even "What can I tell God I achieved for Him?" began to cross his mind. At first, he was content to ignore the questions that came up every so often, and he did his best to consume himself in his work and other activities. And it worked-- it worked so well, that each time the thoughts crossed his mind, he grew pregressively more fearful. What he had once felt a deep care and desire over had become a rather... apathetic feeling. What he had once felt so strongly, now seemed like a graying, dull hair, that one would rather pluck out than leave to be seen, reminding you of things you'd rather not think about. It was this own lack of care towards what had once ignited him that only disturbed him all the more. The feeling seemed to slowly creep into more than just these questions, however. Even though he resisted it, somehow, the feeling of apathy seemed to creep it's way into every corner of his life, one way or another... Except in the things that do not really matter. When his plate was incorrectly prepared, he cared so much as to have a fit like unto Zeus enflamed. When a poor boy sat on the street, he walked by without looking back.

But really, the truth is... he did care. He cared so much, that it seemed to be his choice whether he turn off caring entirely, or care so much that he would begin to reshape his entire life. Reshaping his life scared him-- and besides, he was generous. When he received outstanding service at the diner, he gave at least a couple dollars more than he would normally. Those waiters live off tips, you know!

Those thoughts were just enough to fool him into staying the same-- where his comfort lied, yet where he somehow felt turmoil, somewhere inside.

One day, he sat alone in his large mansion he had inherited, reading the paper. He interested himself in the stocks, and had made enough money from investing alone to feed himself and at least 2 others for the rest of his life. He tried to just read the paper, but his mind was just not having it that day. The thoughts came back. Images flashed in his mind of the poor boys, and his expressionless head pointed straight ahead, or down at the ground, pretending to not notice. Thoughts of his fits of rage at the diner where he had all but degraded the staff into nothing, and even thoughts of all the moments he spent alone, staring at an empty mansion, flashed across his mind.

Frustrated, he took off his glasses and felt his face and eyes, groaning. Why could he not get past this? Why was this so important? "This is so trivial." he thought. Discontent with the situation, he asked himself "What would it really take to be generous?" "What would I have to do to really adopt generosity as my own way of impact?"

He thought for a few moments. He knew the fits at the diner had to stop. Maybe at least saying hello to one of the boys on the street might be nice. They might have some interesting stories to tell. That's a start, at least. 

Later that day, he walked around town passing by a few boys on the street. "I'm going to eat," he thought. "I can't stop right now."

Once he got to the diner, the waiting servants quickly seated him with the utmost of hurry and apology-- he had been standing for a minute and a half before he was noticed!

After around 10 minutes, a much longer wait than normal, a well-dressed (in the typical waiting gowns), beautiful lady came out to take his order. Once she arrived, however, her irreverence and discontent was apparent. "What do you want?" she questioned tritely, rolling her eyes as she chewed on her gum.

Richard noticed this, but did his best to ignore it. He ordered his usual, the fried steak with green beans on the side, and, without stopping to mention drinks (which normally came far before the meal), the lady wrote some number and letter down, and walked off nearly as quickly as she had walked up.

Richard blankly stared at the table centerpiece, a glass jar with a rose, which looked like flames came up all around it. He occupied his thoughts with this for a while, investigating and discovering the artificial flames which looked so realistic from outside the jar. By the time he was done looking this over, and waiting about, it had been at least 15 minutes. He looked around as people hustled about in the amazingly quiet diner. After a bit, he reinterested himself with the dressings of the table. The tablecloth was quite nice. "Could I make a sock out of this?" he thought.

Eventually, it had been at least half an hour. No sign of his food, or even a drink, much less a refill. He knew what he would do normally. He actually really wanted to let someone "have it". This was a professional establishment, after all. But he remembered his decision he had made earlier that day, and the thoughts he had had. His resolve grew to stay true to his choice.

Another 20 minutes passed, and finally the lady came to him again, and asked "Have you already had your food?"

"No." Richard replied plainly.

"Oh." the lady said.

She walked off without any alliteration. A few moments later, she came back with the plate, which was now lukewarm, at best.

"Enjoy", she said with a tone of obligation.

At this point, Richard was greatly displeased. "Even a common man at a roadside joint would be displeased with this sort of service", he thought to himself.

But he ate and ignored his displeasure. He thought about how good looking the waitress was. He also thought about the things that could make a person act like she did-- and how him giving in to his temptation to ignite would be a lot like the way she had treated him.

After a while, he was done eating, and within moments of this, the girl brought his check. "Come back again." she said, under her breath.

The bill was 4 dollars more than normal-- they had charged him for the wrong meal. But he had not come this far to turn back now. He placed his money inside the booklet, and put the black pamphlet up to be taken.

Soon, the lady rushed by and quickly grabbed the booklet, returning after around 8 minutes, replacing it on the table without comment.

He received the receipts and looked around. He smiled to himself. He wrote down "$100.00" in the tip slot. "This lady has been so upset about something, that she hasn't been acting like a good waitress at all", he thought. "Just wait until she sees this! She'll be so happy."

She didn't deserve it, no. But he knew he didn't deserve so much of what he had gotten. "It's not about what people deserve", he thought. "Because if it is, then none of us deserve anything. It's about loving people regardless, even if there's nothing in it for you."

So he left quickly, leaving the receipt and a $100 bill behind. As he walked out, someone quickly opened the door for him. "I am so sorry, I apologize for existing", they said, seriously.

Rich walked down the street quickly. The kid was still there, on the side of the road. He walked quickly, looking straight ahead, but he slowed. He looked over at the boy and then at the ground, kicking the dust, biding his time at nothing. Slowly, he looked across the street non-chalantly, and then crossed normally.

He stood a short distance away from the boy, who leaned against a wall, sitting on a quilted sheet, long dirty from trampling and absence of washing. He almost walked over to him, but stopped. A little girl was crossing the street, running to him.

"Billy!" she yelled. "A lady was walking out of the diner and she gave me a one hundred dollar bill! She said I could get anything I wanted... but I guess the only thing I wanted more than that... was for you to get anything you wanted."

"Simi, I could never do that to you. She gave that to you. Go and get that doll you've wanted for since last Christmas!" the boy said.

"I know I've wanted that a long time. But I thought about it... And how am I going to feel holding onto my beautiful dolly, looking at you every day, with nothing to your name?" the girl said.

It was at this Richard realized what generosity really was: Giving up something that you want, to give something somebody else wants.

"But I can't take all of that. That's yours! How am I to feel holding onto a red BB-Gun and seeing you each day with not a thing?!" the boy replied back.

"Well... What if split it? I couldn't get the doll I wanted, and you couldn't get the gun you wanted... But I could get the smaller doll, and you could get the smaller gun. And that's better than seeing each other with nothing, all day." Simi said.

"Are you sure that's okay?" Billy said. "It is your money, after all."

"I'm totally sure that's okay!" Simi said, happily. "Let's go right now!"

"Okay, you've convinced me! Let's go!" Billy yelled.

"Wait!" Richard yelled. "Here. Here's another hundred. Now you both can get what you want."

He handed the boy named Billy the bill.

"Oh wow, thanks mister! I don't know what to say! What about you?" Billy said. "Don't you have something you want?"

"I think I've already gotten more out of today than I have the past year entirely." Rich said, smiling.

"You're so generous! Thank you, sir!!" Simi yelled.

"And hey, uhm, guys..." Rich began. "Do you have a place to stay? Are you guys orphans? Why aren't you at the shelter with the rest of the orphans?"

"The shelter wouldn't take us! They said they had too many and not enough food! So we've been out here since last Christmas, and made just enough to eat every once in a while." Billy said.

"Yeah, it's been tough. But it's probably better than being at that shelter with all those misbehaving rascals, anyway!" Simi said.

"Well, look. I have an entire mansion... to myself. Would you like to... Come stay with me? At least for a while, until we find you somewhere else?"

"Gee, we wouldn't wanna put you out! That's your place!" Billy said.

"I know, I know", Rich replied. "But it gets pretty lonely, honestly, and I... I think some company would be good."

"Well..." both the children thought for a moment. "Okay!