There was a mild rap on the door. “Come on in” a voice from the inside boomed. Jazz opened the door and the huge oak paneled door slid open and he stepped in. The man who sat on the strong leather steel chair was peering at something on the computer screen. Jazz took a quick look at the screen and saw tons of bars in a chart.
“Sit down son” the man said in a quieter voice now.
Jazz sat down at the chair opposite the table and his weight sank in nicely and comfortably into that mass of foam.
It had been a week since his daddy had given him the assignment to go figure out what his purpose in life was and when he figures it out, he should come and tell him.
His daddy called that chair, ‘his thinking chair’. Anytime Mr. Knight was tired of peering at the computer or reading one of the fat books that adorned the shelf, he would leave the reading chair and offload himself into the huge chair that was at the corner opposite his writing table. As soon as he sank into the chair, he would fall asleep and start snoring straightaway. That was the effect the chair had on Mr. Knight. Mr. Knight only held important discussions in the study. Anytime he wanted to relax with the family, he would come out to the living room and sprawl himself out on the sofa. Brainbox was out of bounds to people who wanted to use the study as a relaxation centre. It was only for serious talks, discussions, debates and plans. Anytime Mr. Knight called any of children into the study for a meeting, it was usually for something of grave nature. He would be very official about the invitation. He would officially invite you to meet with him at the study at a particular time and he would tell you the subject of the discourse for you to prepare yourself sufficiently for the encounter. His wife rarely visited the Brainbox except for an important family discussion that involved taking important decisions about the family. Everybody respected the status of the Brainbox because everybody knew also that anytime Mr. Knight was in there, it meant more money for the family to continue to live the kind of lifestyle they were living.
One dinner session, a friend of their youngest daughter had joined the family for dinner and the subject floating around the table was wealth. They apparently had been discussing about wealth at school and they all talked about wealthy people and what people could do with money. Then Mr. Knight quipped in “some people have so much money that, that is the only thing they have.”
The children shrieked and dropped their forks. They stared into space for a moment and wondered what that statement meant.
“What does that mean dad?” Carine asked her dad.
“Yeah dad, what does that mean?” Jazz joined in.
The young guest kept staring at the wall. Then she shook her head and said “yes, they have so much money and that is the only thing they have, money. That is why they go on holidays and have all the nice and fancy things of life.”
“That is actually poverty if money is the only thing they have” Mr. Knight continued.
Mrs. Knight was all ears as she maintained a look at Mr. Knight and contemplated.
“Let’s assume you went out camping in the desert and your car got stuck in the sand dune. You need help, another car to help pull your car out. No phone reception in the desert to call road assistance. You have your bank cards and a lot of money. Can that help you?”
“No” they all chorused.
“Who would you be relying upon to help you?” Mr. Knight went on.
“A kind person” Mariah responded.
“Somebody with a car in the desert I suppose” Jazz contributed.
“That’s right. That’s exactly right” said Mr. Knight. “What if those people do not stop to help or couldn’t be bothered to help, what would happen to you in the desert?”
“We would all be stranded” Mrs. Knight said.
“Thank you guys. That’s my point, if those people were not rich in kindness, in compassion, they would not stop. So being rich is not just in money but in character, skills, hard work, etc as well. That is the real wealth.”
“Oh, I see what you mean” Mariah quipped.
Jazzy said something along the lines of “what dad is saying makes sense.”
Mr. Knight swung around and faced his son Jazzy. He removed his glasses and let them hang by the suspenders they were attached to over his neck.
“So, what have you come up with?”
“My mission in life is to be rich, have a lot of money to be able to afford a good lifestyle for my family. Serve God and worship God, have a good job and business.”
Mr. knight stood up and shook his son’s hands with such elation.
“Son, I am mighty delighted for you. This is the first most important thing you have done for yourself. Defining and stating your mission in life. Now go ahead and chase your mission. You are ready for life.”
Jazz beamed with such ecstasy that he has been able to say something that has given him a sense of purpose in life.
“That is exactly what I am going to do dad.”