her.
AWhat is it, Martha?@ he asked. Then he saw me and smiled. AAha, we have a visitor. You know, son, we don=t get visitors very often. Most of our friends have either died or moved away. Come in, come in. We=re just letting the flies in by keeping the door open.@
I stepped inside. I smelled fragrances that of food that whetted further my hunger. The woman must have been cooking, and I could tell from the smells that she was a good cook indeed.
AWell, you might as well have breakfast with us and tell us your story,@ the woman said as she and Samuel led me toward the kitchen. Martha went to cupboard and retrieved a plate and a cup and made a place at the table for me. Samuel put a knife, fork and napkin beside my plate.
AI know you must be thirsty,@ she said and poured me a glass of cold water from a pitcher in the refrigerator. I drank it all in one long gulp.
Martha refilled the glass and put it down at my place at the table. Samuel had pulled up a chair for me. Samuel sat and invited me to sit as well. Martha remained standing to serve us the scrambled eggs and bacon she had cooked on the stove. After she had placed an ample helping of eggs and bacon on each plate, she opened the oven and pulled out a tray with four slices of toast. She put two on Samuel=s plate, one on mine and one on her own, and then pulled a jar of strawberry jam from the refrigerator and placed it in the middle of the table.
We began eating. It must have been clear how hungry I was by the way I attacked my food. I finished off everything on my plate, including the toast with an ample helping of jam, before Samuel and Martha had eaten half their bacon and eggs.
AHe must truly be famished,@ Samuel remarked to Martha. AHere, son, have another piece of toast.@ He placed one of his piece of toast on my plate.
ASamuel, you know how much you like . . .,@ Martha blurted out, but Samuel interrupted her immediately. AThe child is hungry and needs it more than I do.@
ABut, son,@ Martha continued, Ayou haven=t told us anything about yourself other than you think your parents don=t love you. Why, we don=t even know your name. I think it=s time we learned more about you.@
AMy name is Adam,@ I began. AI live, or used to live on the other side of the forest. My parents are very poor and our house was small and run down, but that is not why I ran away. I would not have run away if I had felt my parents loved me and wanted me to stay with them.
ABut they were always telling me what a burden I was to them, how much more they would have to eat if they did not have to feed me. They let me play in the yard all day, but they never came to play games with me. I did the jobs they assigned me, but they never thanked me for doing them, but they would hit me if I failed to do them exactly the way they wanted me to.
AThey did not want me to go far from our house, but I finally decided I wanted to explore the forest. I thought if I got lost, or some fierce animal ate me, I wouldn=t really care because my life was so miserable. I was sure my parents wouldn=t are either. My dying would relieve them of the burden of caring for me.
ABut once I was deep in the forest I was frightened. It was terribly dark at night, and I had no place to sleep except on the path. I don=t know if it was a dream or real, but I saw my parents coming down the path with torches. They seemed to be looking for me, but when they came to me, they started laughing and turned away, telling one another that I was not the one they were looking for. They left me in the terrible darkness.
AI continued down the path and found a small house that looked exactly like my own. Inside was lots of food and a man who looked exactly like my father, but he was kind and gentle and let me eat and drink my fill. Then he and the house disappeared, and I found myself alone once more on the path.
AI continued down the path, but I was afraid that I would not be able to leave the forest before night fell and I would have to be alone in total darkness again. But I used the mirror that the man gave me. It showed me that I if I walked quickly, I could leave the forest and enter the meadow behind your house by evening. I slept last night in the meadow. It was so peaceful there with the stars and moon overhead.
AWhen I woke up, I saw your house, and here I am. I am so grateful for letting me come in and for feeding me.@
Samuel and Martha looked at one another, and then at me. Samuel spoke first. AWe had a little boy who grew up and moved away. We have not seen him in a long time, and we miss him. You look a lot like he did when he was your age, so I am glad you came to visit us. You remind Martha and me of our own son.@
AYes, I was thinking the same thing,@ Martha said with a hint of sadness in her voice. AHe even sounds a lot like Robin.@
AYour son=s name was Robin?@ I asked.
AYes, it was,@ Martha replied, Aand we miss him a great deal. But he, like you, wanted to find out what the world was like. We gave him all the love we could, but this house was too small for him, and we are far from our nearest neighbors. He was lonely in spite of our love, and so one day he left. He did not even say goodbye.@ Tears were forming in Martha=s eyes and slowly running down her cheeks.
AI=m sorry,@ Martha blurted.
AThere=s no need to be sorry for anything,@ Samuel retorted. ARobin had to do what he had to do. We did the best we could for him. We gave him all the love we could, but, apparently, it was not enough. Perhaps he is happier now.@
AHow would we know he is happy?@ Martha said, sniffling. AWe don=t even know where he is.@
Martha wiped her eyes and cheeks with her napkin. ABut we shouldn=t bother this child with our troubles.@
She turned toward me. AChild, we are happy you came to our house. You can stay as long as you wish. We still have Robin=s bedroom. It is small, but you are welcome to use it.
ADid I hear you say something about a mirror that someone gave you that told you how to get out of the forest. Is that what you said?@
ANo,@ I replied, Athe mirror did not tell me how to get out of the forest. It=s true that I asked it to show me how I could get out, but it just showed me that the path I was on led to a meadow, and it seemed that I could reach the meadow by that evening if I kept walking.@
AI never heard of such a thing,@ Martha said. AWhat else does this strange mirror do?@
AWell, to be honest,@ I answered, AI don=t know. I=ve only it used it once.@
ACould it,@ Martha asked excitedly, Acould it tell us where Robin is?@
I answered again that I did not know what the mirror could, or could not, do. I did not even know how to ask the mirror questions. But I would ask the mirror a question and see what happened.
I pulled the mirror out from my shirt pocket and showed it to Samuel and Martha. They each in turn examined the mirror and looked into it.
AThat=s strange,@ said Samuel, AI don=t see my reflection. I just see the wall behind me.@
Martha did see her reflection, but she remarked that her face looked even more wrinkled and older than it did when she looked in her bathroom mirror that very morning. I remember then that I my reflection looked older than I was. Did the mirror add years to our age, and, if so, how many? What if someone could not see their reflection? Did that mean . . . I dared not complete the question, even if just in my mind.
Martha handed the mirror back to me. For the second time, I spoke to the mirror. AMirror, show me how to find Robin, the son of Martha and Samuel.@
My image vanished from the mirror, and in its place I saw a large building surrounded by other large buildings. The streets near the buildings were crowded with cars, and many people were on the sidewalks. I described what I was seeing to Martha and Samuel. They each got up and came to look over my shoulder.
AHow strange,@ Samuel said. AClearly, these buildings are in some large city. If your mirror is telling the truth, that must be where Robin is. At least it is an indication that he still alive. That is a great consolation.@
ABut it doesn=t tell where he is, or whether he ever thinks of us,@ Martha sighed. ABut I, too, am happy that he is alive.@
&n
bsp; I remained silent reflecting on the loss of their son and the sadness it had brought Martha and Samuel. I wonder if my parents were sad because I was gone. I thought of how pleasant it would be to remain with Samuel and Martha. I would be safe and have plenty to eat, and they seemed so much more interested in me than my parents. But I suddenly found myself asking, AWould you rather that I stay here with you, or would you want me to leave and try to find Robin?@
I don=t know what led me to ask this question. Perhaps I instinctively wanted to this old couple who had showed me such generosity.
Both Samuel and Martha were silent for a moment as they continued to look over my shoulder at the mirror. Then Martha spoke, ARobin left us when he was just a bit older than you, and we have been alone ever since. It would be so pleasant to have you stay with us. You could not replace Robin, but we would treat you like a son, and when we died, we would give this house and all we own to you. We would love you as best we could, and perhaps you would forget the pain that your parents caused you and forgive them. But I would so like to see Robin again before I die.@
ANo,@ Samuel said, Ayou may be a gift sent to us from heaven. It would be too painful at our age to lose another son. Stay with awhile. This is not the time to make so hard a decision.@
A Mission of Mercy
With Samuel and Martha unwilling to let me leave their home to seek their son, I made
Robin=s bedroom my own and became a part of the household=s routine. Samuel and Martha
were early risers, generally getting up for their morning ablutions even before the sun rose.
Martha would then go the kitchen to prepare breakfast while Samuel went out to tend their
vegetable garden and feed their two goats, five hens, a rooster, and one goose. Actually, caring
for the garden and the animals took more time than was available before breakfast. Indeed, after
breakfast he would spend the rest of the morning in the garden and the small barnyard that
housed his little flock.
I soon found myself rising early myself and helping him with his chores. I would collect
and clean eggs, carry water in a pail from the house to the bowls from which the animals drank,
and helped clean the small henhouse and the barnyard. Samuel and Martha were delighted to
see me help without being asked. Robin, they told me, had helped them only grudgingly,
complaining about how primitive their lives were. I, however, found the simplicity of their life
delightful. They had shown me love by taking me in and treating me as one of their family, and I
felt great satisfaction in reciprocating that love by doing whatever I could do to help them.
But the shadow of Robin still fell heavily across the house. I dared not remove his
pictures and mementoes from his bedroom, even though it was now my bedroom, . . or was it?
However much Samuel and Martha welcomed me and embraced me with their affection, even
calling me >son,= they and I knew that I was not their son. Worse yet, I knew I reminded them of
Robin. They had told me that I looked much like him and spoke much like him, so I wondered if
my presence continually brought to mind the sad memories of Robin=s leaving.
The man in the forest had told me that I had to learn how to love before I could return and
teach my parents how to love. And now I lay awake at night wondering what it meant to love
Martha and Samuel. I wondered as well if they loved me for my own sake, or because they were
giving me love that properly belonged to Robin. And, in the end, did the motive for their love or
mine really matter? I was comfortable with our arrangement, as clearly they seemed to be as
well.
Yet, I was pursued by the question: Was it more loving for me to leave them to seek their
true son