Chapter Three
The Teacher remained silent for a long while as I watched the soft glow within my vessel. The little creature continued its gentle melody, and the peaceful meadow seemed untouched by time.
Finally, the Teacher spoke.
“Marine, have you not been working on another book?”
“I have.”
“What is it called?”
“The Book of Ron.”
“And what is its purpose?”
I smiled before answering.
“Teacher, it is built upon the Book of Proverbs. Ever since I truly began studying Scripture, I have sought wisdom as though it were more valuable than gold itself. Throughout my life I have tried to make decisions based upon that wisdom. More importantly, I wanted to pass those lessons on to my granddaughters. Every story I wrote for them ended with another nugget of wisdom. My hope was that when I am no longer here, they will still be able to hear my voice through those stories.”
The Teacher nodded thoughtfully.
“Then tell me, Marine. Give me a few of the nuggets you have left with them.”
I leaned back for a moment, smiling as memories of my granddaughters came rushing into my mind.
“One of my favorites was always this. You can pour the same cup of water onto the back of a duck and onto a sponge. The duck gets wet, shakes itself off, and continues as though nothing ever happened. The sponge absorbs every drop. How you choose to listen to another person is your decision. You can allow wisdom to roll off your back, or you can absorb it into your life.”
I paused, remembering another lesson.
“I also taught them that every decision carries consequences. If a decision is based only upon our own wants and desires, there is always the possibility it will become selfish. But when we stop to consider the needs of others as well as our own, there is a far greater possibility that compassion, grace, and wisdom will guide that decision.”
Again I stopped for a moment before continuing.
“The third lesson may be the hardest one of all. Most people have a difficult time being honest with themselves, let alone with someone else. Very few are willing to quietly examine their own hearts and honestly ask, ‘Who am I becoming?’ Until a person can answer that question truthfully, it becomes almost impossible to change the direction of their life.”
The Teacher allowed the silence to settle over the meadow. The little creature beside the rock released another gentle melody that drifted through the air like a warm breeze.
Finally, he looked at me and smiled.
“Marine… your granddaughters are blessed.”
Those words reached deeper into my heart than I could explain.
He paused before continuing.
“They will possess more than a book.”
He gently pointed toward the vessel resting in my hands.
“They will possess the wisdom you chose to place within it.”
I looked down at the vessel.
For the first time, I began to understand.
Every lesson… every struggle… every triumph… every failure honestly examined… every truth accepted… every act of grace… every nugget of wisdom… had become part of its contents.
The vessel was no longer simply mine.
One day, it would continue pouring into the vineyards of others.
The Teacher looked toward the horizon.
“Come, Marine.”
I stood and picked up my vessel.
Its light seemed brighter than before.
“The next lesson,” he said quietly, “will require both your mind and your heart.”
Together we walked beyond the meadow, leaving behind the place of peace, carrying with us the wisdom it had given.