Born to Shine

Born to shine

Part One

My dad always loved my mom, but I have never seen her. She died giving birth to me. Since the day I was born, he became both a father and a mother.

We lived out in nature, near a small village. Dad worked as a vine grower in one of the vineyards around. On our little plot of land, he was cultivating vegetables, mainly cabbage and celery, our primary food. We both enjoyed our peaceful, simple life.

Behind our house was a beautiful meadow full of flowers of all different colors! We walked there together every afternoon.

"Look at this gorgeous one!" my dad would call, pointing at a particular flower. He would bend the knee to be my height and to look closer together. "See how it stands tall, open to the sunlight, he would say. It declares the glory of its Creator." He occasionally took me out to sleep under the sky on summer nights, right in the vineyards. I loved to fall asleep, looking into the endless starry dome, but my attempts to count the stars failed every time.

"See how bright they are?" my dad would ask, covering me with a blanket. Stars are created to shine amid the dark world. They reflect the glorious light of the Almighty God."

I treasured those moments, but the best time was when my dad read to me.

"What should we read tonight?" he would ask.

"Daniel the prophet!" I would answer. Daniel was my favorite. I could listen to stories over and over about how he and his friends were in captivity in the king's palace but chose to eat only vegetables, and in the end, they looked better and healthier than others who ate from the king's table. The story of how Daniel chose to pray to God, despite the forbidding decree of the king and being thrown into the lion's den, survived. A story about his three friends who, under the penalty of death by a fiery furnace, refused to bow down before the golden idol. They decided to give glory to the only true God and being thrown tied into the furnace, walked out of there free, without a single burn!

"Daniel's choices only looked like a failure," dad would say, "but his life reflected the eternal glory of God; he was determined to glorify Him either with his life or with his death."

And my childhood was over. A young lad, I started to help my father in the vineyard. One day, coming home, we both noticed something unusual.

"Surprise!" A stranger jumped out from behind a tree. "You!" exclaimed my dad, and they hugged each other. "Come in. You should be tired after such a long journey," he said and turned to me: "This is my brother. I haven't seen him for quite a few years." As far as I remember, dad never uttered a word about his family.

I kept staring at my newly discovered uncle. He looked so different from my dad. "What do they have in common? I wondered. He seems to come from a different world. He unpacked his suitcase and got out many shiny packages, food, and things I'd never seen before. Then he handed me one small package and said, "This one is especially for you." I opened it carefully, trying not to break the package. It was a golden spoon. Before I could ask anything, he explained: "It's symbolic of luck and prosperity." I hugged him, and the ice broke.

All three of us sat at the table, filled with the exotic foods he had brought. What a feast! My uncle was observing me consuming those goodies.

"You look like a capable young man," he concluded. "What are you still doing in this hole? You should come over to the metropolis."

I looked at my father. He seemed to be in some frozen state for a few minutes. Then he turned to me and said firmly, "Go to sleep, son. We must get up early tomorrow. My brother and I need to talk." I didn't understand what caused that sudden turn, but I went, holding the golden spoon in my hand.

I lay in my bed, trying to catch every word of their conversation behind closed doors.

For a few minutes, it was silent, then uncle spoke again.

"I understand you gave up your talent and chose this life, but why do you tie the boy? Don't stand at the door! Let him enter the grand life! Let him fly!"

"I don't see it this way," interrupted my dad. "How can you fly, being stuck in lies? Twirling around important people, is that what you call "a grand life?"

"Why do you throw the ball into my field? I haven't got any children. I do my best with what I have, but you! You marinate the boy. Let him use his wings! Let him fly wherever he wants!"

"He doesn't need to learn your shameful ways," concluded my dad, but the uncle didn't give up.

"What do you offer him? To gnaw the same loaf of hard bread for the rest of his life?"

"I wish you would leave tomorrow morning," said my father and added the ball was in your field; you chose to continue. Enjoy the game."

I didn't dare to ask my dad any questions. I knew I was not supposed to listen to their conversation. But one thing was sure; I was never the same after my uncle's visit. Every night, looking at that shiny golden spoon, I dreamed about my future grand life in the metropolitan.

"Dad, maybe we can have a better life in the big city?" I asked him.

"Who bewitched you to run after a better life in the big city? My brother with his gifts? Don't you remember Daniel?" He couldn't hide his anger.

"But Daniel also had an education." I tried to persist, but he cut the conversation and concluded,

"We are not moving to the city! That's it!"

The next few days, we hardly spoke. The whole atmosphere between us became sour. I went out to look at the stars. They seemed so far and indifferent. I held the spoon in my hand and continued to dream, and my yearnings continued to grow until one day, I came and announced

I'm not chained to this life. I choose to move to the metropolitan.

This time dad didn't attempt to stop me. Instead, he handed me a piece of paper.

"I was ready for this," he said. "I understand. May God protect you. Be watchful, son; some of their ways are not kosher. Here's my brother's address. You probably can't stay there, but just as a landing place."

We hugged each other. "Write sometime," he whispered in my ear.

And I left, embarking on my journey into the grand life.

Part two

After a long journey, I arrived in the city. Wow! What a difference! Thrilled, I opened the paper with my uncle's address, took a deep breath, and went to ask for directions. The metropolitan was a world in itself. After a couple of hours, I rang the bell of my uncle's apartment.

"Hello, young man!" He exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise!" He invited me in and offered me a cup of tea.

"You must be hungry." He called from the kitchen, "I'm making you a sandwich. That's what we eat in the city."

I looked around his fancy living room at the expensive furniture and beautiful paintings hanging on the walls. Among other pictures, I noticed an old black and white photograph of a group of young guys and came closer to look at their faces. In the middle of the group stood a handsome man with a violin. I looked into his eyes. "You found it straight away, ah?" said uncle, returning from the kitchen. "It's from college time, the students from our class."

I kept staring at the man in the middle.

"Recognize him?" Uncle came close to me. "That's your father."

I got into some frozen state for a few minutes, trying to comprehend.

"Your dad probably never mentioned anything about this. He decided to hide it, even to bury it."

Silently, I waited for an explanation then he continued:

"Your father and I were in the same college. He was an exceptional violinist. His amazing talent was hard not to notice. He was a bright shining star. He got invited to perform at the most special conventions, banquets, and other gatherings. He was offered a lot of money, and life opened wide before him, but he refused to enter."

"Why? Can you please tell me why?" I begged him.

"There were times of political stirring. One guy from our class was an activist in resistance; he publicly spoke against certain rules. That was a long time ago."

"Was dad also an activist?"

"No. If he would simply bend his views a little, he would continue to play music and become rich and famous. But he decided to dig a grave for his talent. I tried to talk him out of that decision, but he bashed all my arguments. He was so foolish and stubborn! It hurts me to remember this story. What a shame! It wasn't just his failure, but a loss for the whole country and the music world!"

I felt anger against my dad for the choices he made. The uncle sat down in a comfortable armchair and concluded,

"Life is a complicated mechanism. One little cable puts the whole machine to work. Your father chose to cut it, but you don't have to. Look for that little cable, a little connection, wherever it comes from, don't miss your opportune moment."

I intend to find a job, whatever is available.

"Good decision." He interrupted me. "Let's check in a local newspaper."

I moved my chair and sat down next to him. He opened a newspaper and looked under the title "Job offers."

"Here is one for you," he exclaimed, "and it's urgent. You can start right away!" He pointed at the offer, "a lawn mowing job in a wealthy neighborhood; sounds right. You should go now!"

I copied the address and got up to go.

"Oh, do me a favor," said the uncle. "Get this ugly hat off of your head. You don't want to look like a villager."

I put a hat in my backpack, thanked him, and left.

Observing the beautiful villas, I was getting closer to my destination. Then suddenly, I saw a house in flames, surrounded by firetrucks, firemen running, lots of people, and loud noise. I looked closer and saw a girl about my age; two strong firemen were trying to stop her from running into the burning house, but she persisted with all her strength.

The chief fireman approached them and said to the girl,

"Sorry, ma'am. We cannot allow you to go in. The house is in flames. The whole team looked for your dog everywhere and couldn't find it. I apologize, but our responsibility is to keep you from getting hurt."

But the girl would not be comforted.

"I know my dog is there, and it is still alive!" she shouted over and over. "I must go get it!"

Without hesitating, I ran into the burning house. The fire had already burned most of the furniture. I looked around and noticed the stairs going down to the basement. I ran down and entered one room after the other. Finally, I saw a tiny dog trapped in the window grille, trying to escape. It breathed heavily but was still alive. I pulled it out and ran out of there as fast as possible. Outside everyone was trying to comfort the girl. One of the firemen noticed me coming and cried out loud, "The dog!" The sea of people opened up at once for me to walk through. The girl ran towards me, carefully took the dog from my arms, and brought it close to her chest.

"Thank you," she whispered and started to walk away.

I went out and started walking next to her. She smiled at me.

"I live just a few houses over," she said. "I was visiting my friend when her house caught on fire. Where are you going?"

"To this address," I replied and showed her the paper. I hope to get a lawn mowing job there."

"What a coincidence!" she exclaimed. "That's my address. Our lawn mower got sick, and my father put an ad in a local newspaper."

I took a deep breath and remembered the words of my uncle: "A little connection will put a big machine to work." Well, he was right about that.

"I want to express my gratitude for what you did for my daughter," said her father after I had finished mowing. "I want to support you."

That evening I couldn't comprehend all it meant. I didn't just get the job; I got adopted into a new family. All the doors suddenly opened to me. I could enter a very prestigious college. During my studies, I made a few attempts to return to my uncle. I was eager to tell him how my life turned out, but his door was always closed. I didn't search any further or write to my dad. Anyway, my life was so full and exciting. The day I graduated from college, I proposed to that girl, and she said yes! Our engagement party is tonight. I couldn't be happier!

Coming home, I grabbed my white shirt from the cleaners and turned around the corner. A familiar little dog ran towards me, happily wagging its tail. My future father-in-law appeared right before me and asked, "Have you guys decided on the date for a wedding yet?"

"We plan to announce it tonight," I responded with a smile.

"I look forward to it," he said, adding, "I also have something to announce." Upon those words, he handed me an envelope and disappeared with the dog.

I got home and looked closer at the envelope. My name was written in golden letters. I carefully pulled the letter out and started to read.

"Greatly respected so and so. We are happy to announce that you have been chosen to officiate in a star position in a world-leading management system. You have all the necessary traits to perform a successful service in this venerable office. Your ordination procedure is tomorrow morning. Be ready for the reception of the mantle; come buttoned up, and remember this is a very high position, and you have to appear unapproachable."

I felt both excited and heavy, but I didn't have time to sort my feelings out; I had to hurry to the city square for our organized party.

There was quite a crowd of people. Colorful balloons and flowers decorated the place, and refreshments filled the tables everywhere. When they saw me entering, everything suddenly became quiet, and everyone looked in my direction in admiration. I felt so heavy, not able to move.

My beloved came to rescue me.

"Come, they are waiting for us."

She took my hand, and we went forward together.

Part three

We had a beautiful ceremony, almost like a wedding itself. My bride-to-be kissed me and said, "You are a star of my world!"

My future father-in-law got up with a glass in his hand and announced,

"Today, I have a double reason to celebrate. First, I'm happy for my daughter to find an honorable man, and I look forward to them building a happy family. But here is the second reason: I have been looking for an executive manager and found an excellent one!"

He lifted his glass and cried out loud, "To the great leader, entering his office!"

"Honor the leader!" echoed the crowd.

All these events, plus alcohol, made the rest of the party a blackout experience for me. Frankly, I don't remember any other speeches, wishes, or congratulations.

Finally, the feast was over. I was half asleep, walking through the square in dimmed lights. Only a few cleaning workers were picking up garbage, and the homeless were looking for leftovers. Suddenly I heard

a familiar voice behind me.

"Ah, another lawn mowing job."

I was intrigued and turned around.

"Uncle?" The shock woke me up at once. Yes, I recognized him, but I couldn't believe what I saw. He looked so different: an old man, very thin and withered; his clothing crumpled, and his skin shrunk. His hair looked lousy. He looked like he had just been dug up from under the ground. What was he doing there? A homeless -- Instantly, I remembered my visits to him all those years, his ever-closed door. I kept staring at him in silence.

He invited me to sit next to him on a bench and started.

"I owe you an apology. I only told you half the story the day you came to my house. You need to hear all of it."

I was more awake than ever, waiting for him to speak up.

"Remember I spoke to you about that activist from our class? Sure, you do. He was your father's friend, outstanding and outspoken. His words revived hope in everyone listening. He was so brilliant and straightforward that the authorities feared him and plotted to get rid of him. Our college administration wrote a declaration against him; it was all false accusations and slander. Every student in our class had to sign it. Your father was the only one who refused to sign. But I signed it against my own will. It's an unbeatable stain on my life," said the uncle and looked down.

"What happened to that man?" I touched his shoulder, asking him to continue.

"The official church named him a heretic, and the newspapers' headlines read: 'His premature death was a divine punishment.'

To stay alive, your father had to agree never to return to the metropolis. He made the right decision; he started a new life. He was much franker with life than I was. He warned me, but I wasn't open to hearing. I'm ashamed of what I did, but it's too late.

He was right. The system is not redeemable with its lies wrapped up in shiny promises of a grand and glorious life. Now I know the other side of it. They got on my case, and I quickly lost everything I had. It's not even about possessions; the falsehood slowly gnaws life out of you. It eats you from the inside, like an ulcer."

"Why did you mention mowing a lawn?" I inquired, remembering his first words.

He took a deep breath and responded.

"Remember I told you about life being a mechanism? Of course, you do. This mechanism runs on money and power. Its main function is to manipulate the masses to conquer and bring all people under submission. They constantly pave new roads and march upon them to occupy new territories. They bend everyone who stands out; individuals have no right to exist in their world. All that's important for them is quantity, so they multiply their crooked subordinates. It's more than physical imprisonment; it's a crushing of an individual's will by redefining the idea of freedom. People stop thinking for themselves. They don't belong to themselves anymore, becoming only the tools in the hands of their leaders to create a "bright new world." A few chosen leaders run this big mysterious mechanism, and your future father-in-law is one of them. And you will be used to trim the people into the same size and shape as a lawn mower."

I was in shock. It felt like my life had come to a stop. I didn't know how to continue. How much I wished to have some news from my dad now!

"I've got something for you," said the uncle and reached into the inner pocket of his coat. It's a letter from your father. He had no news from you and sent it to my address."

He handed me the letter and started walking away into the night, pushing a little carriage with his few belongings.

I got up slowly, looked around to see if anyone was watching me, and then walked home, holding the letter in my hand. Finally, behind a closed door in my apartment, I was in a safe refuge. Making sure I had locked my door, I pulled the letter out of the envelope and started to read.

"Peace be with you, son.

I have been waiting to hear from you for a long time.

Have you found your way in the Metropolitan? Or have you found yourself in a labyrinth of lies and looking for a way out? Maybe you got caught up in a situation that seems impossible to change. It's not easy to be honest in a world of corruption and duplicity.

Those stories you loved to read as a child clearly represent today's world.

Politics resound as an echo of an ancient Babylonian Empire. History repeats itself.

Remember Daniel and his friends. They chose to give glory to God and not bow down to an idol, even in the face of death. Nothing has changed; the idols of power and money are everywhere. They dictate to you what is worthy of investing your life in. The entire world gravitates in that direction, but you can use your wings and fly, as Daniel did. Even living in captivity, you can still make choices as a free man, for you are the carrier of light in your circumstances, and the intentions of your heart will determine the quality of your life. The way that gives glory to God is always a way out of that labyrinth. God himself will lead you out in his ransom plan.

You probably already found some historical details which I tried hiding from you. I wanted to protect you from that pain, at least for some time. But you left before I had a chance to explain. Anyway, one day you might understand, but for now, I just wanted to tell you that talent is given with a purpose to glorify God; it doesn't have a value of its own. It reflects God's glory upon a person's life, making him shine like a star. Those who give God the glory will shine as gems in His crown."

I better get some sleep, I thought. I went to bed. The world around me was dark and calm. A magnificent morning star appeared in my window when I put my head on a pillow. Holding the letter to my chest, I whispered I choose to follow the light that no man can extinguish. Thank you, dad.