The following story was related to me in a much briefer format at my Jesuit Retreat in July of 2024. The Retreat Master told this tale to show the virtue of generosity. In the story that he narrated, it involved a beggar and a nun. I have embellished the story by changing the nature of the characters and the activities somewhat. I do not know where the original tale came from but if anyone has an inkling, I would love to receive the name so that I can give credit to the author. —- John P.
Once upon a time there was a young man named Ethan who was born into a very affluent family. Ethan was brought up with all the goodies and toys that a rich family could afford. Ethan was an only child to an elderly couple who could not believe their good fortune in having a son and heir in their later days. To say he was spoiled would be an understatement. He was the epitome of the privileged child who thought he deserved everything he got. He treated the family servants like dirt. Servants in his mind were not deserving of any respect.
Perhaps because of his privilege, life was very easy for Ethan. He did not bother to try to get good grades or worry about going to college. Ethan expected to live with his elderly parents until they passed away and then the family fortune would be his. However, life often has other plans for us. Both of Ethan’s parents died in a private plane disaster. Ethan was only twenty years old but their deaths did not really trouble him very much. He assumed that he would now be rich and inherit their fortune. Which is exactly what happened.
Now on his own, Ethan took to wine, women and gambling. His father’s financial advisors tried to warn him that he was burning through the family fortune at a prodigious rate. Ethan would heed no warnings. The more warnings he received the more women he bought. The more whiskey he drank and the more he gambled. He thought nothing of buying a diamond ring or a new car for a girlfriend. The new girlfriend would be tossed out of his mansion in a few weeks only to be replaced by a new gold digger.
Finally, the inevitable happened. Ethan’s advisors told him that he was broke. Everything he thought he owned, cars, mansion, and boats would have to be sold to pay off his debts. Ethan was astounded. It took a few weeks, and an eviction notice before Ethan realized that he had no skills, no trade, no education and no money. Indeed, he had no real friends either as he soon found out. Attempts to borrow money from the bank and friends went nowhere. He was on his own.
Ethan went to a casino one night to see if he could win some of his fortune back. He ended up stone cold drunk and tossed out of the casino when they found out that he could not pay his poker bets. Homeless and penniless, Ethan hit the streets. In the next few months, he learned to live in a cardboard shack and find leftover food by dumpster diving. He learned to beg to get extra money for the gin that he was still addicted to. The other beggars and street people hated his guts. Ethan treated other homeless people as though they were inferior to him.
In the area where Ethan now lived, there was a monastery. Each day, the nuns would serve a hot meal, soup, or sandwiches to the street people. These meals were served between the hours of 11:30 AM and 1:30 PM. Whenever Ethan would go there, he would try to arrive as late as he could so that he did not have to associate with any of the other homeless people. He regarded them as bums and still saw himself as superior to them.
One day, Ethan arrived at the monastery too late for lunch. He had fallen asleep under a tree in a local park and did not wake up until about 3 PM. Nevertheless, he showed up at the monastery to try to get some food. He banged on the door until a young novice nun opened the door. “What can I help you with,” she inquired. “Took your own sweet time to get here,” he belligerently replied. “I want some food.” “I am sorry,” Sister Regina said, “but the kitchen is closed, and we have no food prepared.” “Don’t give me that bullshit, you have food, you are just too lazy to help another human being. I thought your Jesus said to feed the hungry. Well, I am hungry now and I want some food now.”
Sister Regina thought about it for a minute but just then another Sister came to the door. “Go away,” said the other Sister and “come back tomorrow at the proper lunch time.” “No, that’s all right,” said Sister Regina, “I will try to find something for him to eat.” She asked Ethan to “please wait here while I fix something for you to eat.” Ethan agreed but warned her to hurry up as he was really hungry.
Sister Regina went to the kitchen refrigerator and found some different lunch meats. She located some bread and mayonnaise and made a nice cold cuts sandwich. She grabbed a small lunch bag and put the sandwich in the bag. Just as she was headed out of the kitchen, she noticed a candy bar on a shelf. She thought this would make a nice desert and proceeded to pack the bar in with the sandwich.
When she arrived back at the door, she opened the door and Ethan was waiting there. She told Ethan that she had found some cold cuts and made him a sandwich. Ethan grabbed the bag and replied that she had taken her damn sweet time about it. He went away without saying another word.
Ethan walked to his private place in the park under his favorite tree. He sat down and plucked the sandwich from the bag. He took his time to eat the sandwich which he thought was very good. He was about to throw the bag away, when he noticed that there was something else in the bag. He reached inside the bar and found the candy bar. At that point, something very mysterious happened. Ethan thought “Well, I wonder why she gave me a candy bar? Perhaps she was being nice to me. I wonder why she would do that?” That is when it struck him.
She was nice to him when he was a jerk towards her. She did not have to include the candy bar. Maybe I have been a jerk my whole life, he thought. The more he thought about it, the more ashamed he was of the way he treated her and other people. Somehow, sitting under that tree, Ethan resolved to change his life. From now on, he was going to be kind to other people and to help them out when he could. He would start today by going back to the monastery and apologizing to the young novitiate.
It was getting late and around about supper time when he arrived back at the monastery. He knocked gently on the door and waited. The door opened and it was the other Sister who had told him to go away before. “What do you want,” she asked? “I would like to speak to the young Sister that made the sandwich for me,” he said. “Wait right here.” he was told, “I will see if she is available.”
Sister Regina came to the door and greeted Ethan. “What can I do for you,” she inquired? “Nothing,” replied Ethan. He than got down upon both knees and said “I am so sorry for the way that I treated you before. I did not even deserve a sandwich and yet you took the time to make it for me and even add a candy bar. I want you to know how grateful I am to you for that. You have helped me to see the world completely differently. From now on, every day I will come here early to help make lunch for the other homeless people and to help out any way I can.” Sister Regina recognized that Ethan was sincere, and she told him how happy they would be for his help.
Ethan did just as he said he would. He showed up every day early to help prepare food and left late after the dishes and the kitchen had been cleaned. Within a year, the Sisters voted to hire Ethan as a cook and custodian. He lived in the monastery another fifty or so years until he passed away. Before he died, he asked to see Mother Regina who had now become the head of the monastery. Taking her hand, he told her how blessed he was to have had her come into his life. He had lived a life that he wanted to and had no regrets. No amount of fame or fortune could ever equal the happiness that he had found by helping others.
“I want a president with a record of public service, someone whose life’s work shows our children that we don’t chase fame and fortune for ourselves: we fight to give everyone a chance to succeed.” — Michelle Obama
Suffice it to say, I am awestruck by the reply from ChatGPT. She/he might just eliminate the need for many experts including pundits like me, psychiatrists, doctors, lawyers, professors, sociologists, psychologists and even you. I am scratching my head as to what I can add about the subject that ChatGPT did not provide you. I can tell you a story though that ChatGPT cannot concerning a major non-closure in my own life. One episode among many that has left me with regrets. I can also tell you that it is not always easy to get closure on incomplete episodes. Many things can get in the way. Perhaps the primary barriers either being the unwillingness of one party to try or to reciprocate an effort and of course our own egos.
few years later, I decided to reach out to him again. You can guess his reaction. He was angry and insulting. I decided to drop my effort. Over the years, we have had some interactions by phone or email but nothing that has substantially reinvigorated our former friendship. I am not sure whether he feels any loss, but I can honestly say that I miss him. He had many good qualities and there were many times that we spent together that I fondly remember. I have been the one over the past few years to try to reach out, but my efforts have gone nowhere. At this point, I have decided that “people change” and that he is not the person that he once was. This is a good excuse or rationale for my letting go and forgetting him. You can no doubt pick many holes in my logic.
I could point out that few things worth having ever come easy. The problem is that too many of us grow up today with the fantasy that as the song in My Fair Lady goes, “With a little bit of luck, you can have it all.” I grew up with a phrase that was popular in my neighborhood that went “He got the breaks.” This meant basically that he/she got what they got cause they got lucky. They did not have to work hard. They did not have to practice. They did not have to study. They simply had to get the “Breaks.” It took me years to realize the fallacy in thinking that luck has much to do with what one gets in life. Two of my now favorites quotes are:
A life without closures will be a life not really lived well. The more closures we can accomplish, the more satisfying our lives will be. Perhaps only a life lived with closures can be a life lived without regrets. We will all have regrets in our lives. Our incomplete episodes are links in a chain that we forge as we go through life. A key question is “how long do we want our chain to be?” The more effort we make to complete these episodes, the shorter our chain will be, and I think the happier our lives will be. Look at the incomplete episodes in your life today. Which ones still cause you heartache and regrets. Is it too late to do anything about them? Would it be worth the effort? What would it cost you to try?
I need to back up a bit as you must understand some mitigating factors. Most people of my generation today have no idea about why mutual sex was abolished. With hind sight, it may seem a little like throwing the baby out with the bath water. However, around the year 2090, war, terrorism and violence had become so common that everyone agreed something must be done about it. A group of the leading thinkers in the world formed a committee to see whether aggression could be stopped. They accepted the fact that most savage and brutal actions were committed by males of the species. Throughout history, men have fought wars over territory, money, power, fame and women. Men were responsible for most murders, robberies, rapes and crimes against women. The committee noted that the underlying drive behind male aggression was a preponderance of the hormone testosterone. A theory was proposed that if something could be done to reduce the amount of male testosterone, a corresponding drop in world violence would take place.
The solution was political rather than biological. The “Birth Act of 2107” decreed that any physical conjoining of men and women was illegal and immoral. The Supreme High Committee decided that since ancient methods of reproduction were now unreliable, the only way that women could have a baby was by artificial insemination. First, a prospective mother would need to file a permit for a license. Once having a license approved (the present birth rate was a critical factor in licensing decisions) a woman could then go to a birth clinic where she would be impregnated using a glass syringe. Male sperm was collected by harvesting willing males who were paid a fee for their production. Collected specimens were then sent to a national sperm bank to be cataloged and eventually matched with appropriate recipients.
Now as you know, life will always produce mutations. Genetic anomalies that defy the common strain of biology. And so, several years ago, a male baby was born with the genes to develop testosterone. His parents were not aware of this fact until he reached his pre-teens at which point his unique physical abilities were more than obvious. Unsure what the repercussions would be, his mother advised him not to tell anyone. His parents assumed that he could quite easily hide his sometimes-awkward condition from his peers and society at large. This strategy worked for many years. During this time, Adam tried to exercise his abilities as discreetly as possible.
I am not a very sentimental person nor am I one to cling to the past. I decided I would move on with my life. I threw myself into my job and time went by. I had almost forgotten about Leandra when I saw the ad. It was from the Resurrection Android Company. It was the same company that I had purchased my android valet Sam from. Actually, Sam was much more than just a valet. Sam was a third-generation android with some independent powers of decision making. He could decide what to cook each day and he also decided what I should wear for work. He did cleaning, mending and many light repairs around the house. I had bought Sam shortly after Leandra and I were married. Leandra had mentioned that it would be nice to have some help with housekeeping and all. That way she would have more time to spend with me.
Androids of course are not human and they have no empathy or ability to show any emotions. Sam was logical and could be persuasive but he could not show love or compassion. In the ten years since I had purchased Sam, android technology had advanced considerably. Looking at the ad from the company, it appeared that they were now on a 15th generation android that had affective as well as cognitive abilities. The ad claimed that the new android could help replace a loved one both emotionally and physically. By integrating DNA characteristics using a technique called “Assisted human reproduction”, they could capture the exact characteristics of a loved one. All they would need would be some trace or remnant of the deceased or former loved one’s DNA.
That was when the idea occurred to me. I called the customer service line and asked to speak to a representative. I asked her whether it would be possible for me to create a new wife in the exact image of my former wife Leandra. They assured me it was. It would take about six months for the bio-engineering to integrate the mechanical aspects of the droid with the alleles and DNA strands that they could map from a sample of Leandra’s DNA. When the process was completed, I would have an exact physical, mental and emotional copy of Leandra. Even better, she could continue to be programmed and become an even better Leandra. The old Leandra was somewhat boring in bed. The new Leandra could become a wild and wanton partner if that is what I desired.
It did not take long to assemble the new Leandra. I put the lower torso, upper torso and head together in less time than it takes to make a milk shake. She was perfect. She looked just like my old Leandra. When I turned her on, she greeted me and asked, “What will my name be.” I replied “You are Leandra. You are the perfect wife. You will love and obey me always.”
I came home one day from work and Leandra did not greet me at the door. I thought maybe her battery had discharged or that Sam had forgotten to recharge her. I had left strict instructions for Sam to recharge Leandra every day. But, where was Sam? I did not hear him fixing dinner in the kitchen. I went into the kitchen but Sam was not there. Suddenly, I noticed a note on the table. I picked it up. It was from Leandra. She had written: “Gone with Sam, don’t love you anymore. Bye.”
Aging Capriciously 