A young boy tromped up three creaky wooden steps to a since faded yellow door. With a hint of shyness and uncertainty, he knocked. Muffled sounds of a chair being pushed from a table preceded the opening of the door.
"How can I help you?" grumbled a man who was probably in his seventies. After glancing this way and that, he finally lowered his gaze the small boy.
"Hello sir, I was wondering if I could mow your lawn for..." he was cut off when the old man's eyes got very big and the door quickly closed.
"Mae, Ash is at the door!"
"What?! He doesn't even know where we live." A stifled exchange of words between the man and his wife could be heard through the door. After sever uncomfortable seconds, the young boy reached for the door-bell as the front door swung open.
"What do you want?" repeated the old man, in a tone of voice that wasn't harsh, but wasn't exactly friendly, either
"Excuse me. My name is Joshua and I was just wondering if I could mow your lawn for you."
"No thank you." And without any further questioning, the door closed once again. Joshua meandered home. At first he expressed internal resentment for the man that lived at the end of the street. Then he remembered something his father had taught him. Something that would always be imprinted in his conscience.
- - -
"Well, some people are just the way they are." Consoled Joshua's father at the dinner table.
"I wonder why he didn't want you to mow his lawn. And for only seven dollars a day!" said his younger sister, Hannah.
"'A soft answer stops all anger, remember?" quoted his mother. The conversation left Joshua in a deep state of consideration.
- - -
Solomon gazed at the photo of himself and the young boy. This memory was easier to remember as it hadn't occurred but a few years ago. Softly, Solomon recalled how the boy had not been his son, Ash, merely a look-a-like. In one sense, Solomon wished he could take that day back for the unkindness he had showed to Joshua. And in another sense, Solomon would not give that day up for anything in the universe.
- - -
"Get outta' here! I don't want you to mow my lawn! I can't pay, I don't want to pay you, and I won't pay you to mow my lawn!" Solomon had seen Joshua from the kitchen window and assumed he was mowing the old man's lawn so he would have to pay him.
"It's OK, sir. You don't have to pay me." While the boy started his small push-mower, the dazed Solomon stumbled back in the house.
"I don't believe it, Mae. He was out there for an hour and a half, and didn't even want pay! I wonder what's got into him. Most youngsters I know wouldn't even bother to go looking for a job nowadays. 'Want everything served to 'em on a platter." The old man continued his tangent but kept pondering the young boy's selfless action.
Little did he know how important the young boy would become to his life.
Little did he know how important the young boy would become to his life.
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