A young man learns what's most important in life
from the guy next door.
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man.
College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way.
In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit
of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life,
Jack had little time to think about the past and often
no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working
on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser
died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."
Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel
as he sat
quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so
long since I thought of him I'm sorry, but I honestly
thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him
he'd ask how you
were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent
over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom
told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack
said.
You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped
in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life,"
she said.
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he
said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't
for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me
things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there
for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the
next flight to
his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful.
He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives
had passed away. The night before he had to return home
Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next
door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused
for a moment. It was like crossing over into another
dimension, a leap through space and time. The house
was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories.
Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped
suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said. "What box?"
Mom asked
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked
on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand
times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the
thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly
how Jack
remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone
from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him,"
Jack said. "I
better get some sleep. I have an early flight home,
Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning
home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his
mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one
at home. Please stop by the main post office within
the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small
box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred
years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but
the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold
Belser" it read.
Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the
package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope.
Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its
contents to Jack
Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life."
A small key was taped to the letter His heart racing,
as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the
box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing,
he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! - Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time."
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his
office and
cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?"
Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he
said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths
we take but by the moments that take our breath away." |
