19 June 2014
An Ounce of Home
Responding to the doorbell, I sign for a certified letter. It’s from Cedric Dobson, Attorney at Law, Minneapolis, Minnesota. My mind rushes ahead. What have I done? Am I being sued? But for what?
The delivery man is already driving away by the time I’ve opened the envelop. Cedric Dobson is notifying me of the passing of my recluse Aunt Thula, and I am mentioned in her estate. Quickly, I scan the body of the letter searching for key words. Unable to believe its contents, I read it again, more slowly this time.
Aunt Thula met life a bit differently. Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. There was always a kink in everything she did or offered. It’s no different this time. She’s offering me two-million dollar in cash and bonds. However, there is one condition that must first be satisfied.
In order to qualify for the inheritance I must enjoy a round-the-world-journey, expenses paid, of course. But I’m able to take one thing with me. ONE THING!
My mind races from pillar to post, as it were, questioning the sanity of such an impossible condition. What about my blood pressure medication? Does that mean my iPad will be left behind? What about my half-finished novel. Toothbrush?
Without a doubt, at least I’m hoping, many necessities can be purchased on an as-needed basis. But how can I be sure. I certainly don’t want to loose that fortune simply because I don’t understand.
Slow down, I tell myself. Clear your head. Starbuck’s, that’s a first step. It’s only four blocks away. I can hop in the car and be there inside of three minutes. Wait! I should walk. That will give me time to sort through these questions.
Only one thing. A tailor? Should I bring a tailor to fashion new clothes? No. I’ll be in need of more than clothes. They are probably part of the package, anyway. If I were a dishonest person I might bring along a companion, a cat burglar who, could steal everything I need. That won’t work.
I brainstorm through two large cups of coffee. By this time the caffeine has made its mark. I have the jitters big time. Returning home, I realize that this morning’s letter has thrown my schedule on its ear. I’ve forgotten about breakfast. More importantly, I’ve neglected my daily reading of a chapter in the Bible.
Pulling open the top drawer of my writing desk, I take out my King James Version and let it fall open at random – any book, any chapter, any verse. It opens to Matthew, chapter six, verse 25. “Therefore I tell you do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on it….” I read on to chapter seven. The decision is there. The words of Jesus spell it out.
The only thing I need is my Holy Bible.