I Am Rich

    In a rural town, somewhere in the Middle East, there was a small, old man.  I lived in that same town, until I moved away.  I had heard many stories of that old man and how he had changed his lifestyle drastically.  At one point, he was a usurer and would cheat people out of their money.  Nobody really liked this small, old man.
    By the time I was born, he had changed.  He stopped cheating people out of their money and began to return the money he had taken.  He was still very rich, however.  This was a shock to everyone, but I was just a baby then and don’t remember much.
    When I was a young boy, I would often see the man, small, old and wrinkly, walking down the street.  He was seventy or so and hobbled around leaning on an old wooden staff.  At first I was a little scared of him, I must admit, but I figured out that he wasn’t so bad after all.  He always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face and he always had a treat or small coin for a young boy like me.
    I soon began to warm up to him.  I would visit his house many times a week and would hear marvelous stories about a man that shook the whole world.  As I grew older, the old man took me on as a helper of his.  I would run errands for him, and help him get around when he needed it.  He paid me very well and I could spend more time hearing those awesome stories.
    A few years after he hired me, he fell sick.  I tended him, hoping he would get better.  I had a certain love for the old man.  He was like my grandfather and I felt attached to him somehow.  Fortunately, after nearly a month of sickness, he began to get better.  He was able, once again, to get around town and visit his friends he knew so well.
    I forgot to mention that this man was fond of a certain area of the town.  He would always head towards the main avenue of the town and sit (or stand) and stare at an old withered tree that grew by the road.  Whenever we were there, I would ask him why he did that, but he never answered and by the time we were somewhere else, I would forget about the question.
    Two years after the old man’s sickness, he died.  He fell asleep and did not wake up in the morning.  I was about twenty years old at the time.  I mourned him like a son or a grandson for that matter. 
    I had a great surprise when I was told that I was the heir of the old man.  I had never wondered if he had children of his own, but now it seemed that he didn’t.  I had no idea what to do with what the old man had given me.  What I did do surprised everyone in my family and in the town.  I took a small portion of the money and goods and set them apart for a future time when I would need them.  The rest, that is to say the property, money, goods, artifacts, plants, furniture, and everything else, I donated to someone who had a need.
    The money was spread out among the poor people of the town.  The furniture I handed out to people who had a lack of furniture.  The artifacts I donated to people who would not sell them, but keep them for display to others.  The house I gave to a man who started a cheap inn there for everyone who had need of lodging but could not afford anything expensive.  All in all, I believed I had done the thing that the old man would have wanted me to do.
    Along with what I had kept there was a letter that the old man had addressed to me.  It said on the cover not to open until I had become a man of importance which he was sure I would achieve.  I put it away carefully and lovingly and, to tell the truth, soon forgot about it.  I had begun to work as a store owner in the town.  I had learned how to invest my money wisely because of what the old man had taught me.  I soon began to amass a large amount of riches.  So far, the letter went unremembered.
    I began to think about marrying, but no woman drew my attention very much.  That is to say, none drew my attention but her.  Her name was Deborah.  She had been my friend since childhood and I still maintained contact with her.  Her father, a wealthy merchant was trying to get her to marry, but she wouldn’t have any man.  Being his only daughter, the man let her do what she liked and did not force her to marry.  I saw her on the street one day and knew she was the one for me.
    I was still quite young when I asked her father for her hand, but I had a decent amount of money and property that the man could not deny.  In the summer of my thirtieth year, we were married.  We lived happily together for many years.  We had five children, three sons and two daughters.
    One day, my wife was cleaning the house and getting rid of old things that were useless or unnecessary.  As she cleaned, she found an old simple wooden box hidden in a remote corner.  She saved it, not knowing what was inside until I could come home and see it.
    When I got home she showed it to me.  I recognized it immediately.  I was the box that I had kept the small treasure from the old man in.  I opened the dusty top slowly, trying to remember the things that were inside.  I showed the contents to my wife who was very happy to have such things.  She quickly put up the decorations and other items in the house.  At the bottom of the box lay the letter.  I deemed that it was not the right time to open the letter then, so I put it away again.
I began to expand my business and import items from distant lands.  I began to grow in social status and in wealth.  I began to distance myself from my family.  I would work all day then return at night just to eat and sleep.  My wife soon got tired of this, but I told her that everything would be fine.  I began to change my attitude as well.  Before, when poor beggars would ask me for food or a coin, I would give them it and maybe some extra.  Now, I turned away every beggar with harsh words and sometimes a kick.
My business kept growing and growing until I was the largest and richest merchant in the area.  Then I remembered the letter.  I returned home that day and opened it.  The letter was not what I had expected.  It did not congratulate me or have good advice for me.  Well, I’d better let it speak for itself.

My dear David,
You have now become a great merchant.  You are very prosperous and have everything you have ever wanted.  I wrote this letter to you so that you would remember the days I would tell you stories about that man that changed my life.
He made me a happier man.  He helped me see the bright side of living.  You may think now that everything you have is what makes you happy and satisfied.  That is not true.  Only God can fill you and make you satisfied.
I now have a strict warning for you.  With riches, your heart hardens.  You forget the poor people that you loved before.  You ignore them or even despise them.  This has got to change.  There is another warning as well.  Someone who has riches gets very overconfident.  You trust in your own means of obtaining what you need.
Now I have a command for you.  I am not there to enforce it, but your conscience is.  I tell you to sell all you have, including your business.  Sell it all and give everything you get to the poor.  Doing this, you will remember to trust our Lord for everything.  I do not tell you to become a beggar.  I tell you to trust the Lord God Almighty for your every need.  Move into a smaller home, if necessary, and eat food that is not as rich. Drink water instead of wine.  Work in the fields and sweat instead of sitting on a couch and getting fat.
Again I will say that I am not there to enforce what I tell you like I was before, but I pray that your conscience will lead you in the direction that our God has for you.
I wish you the best in the name of our Lord.
Your friend and mentor,
Zaccheus

The letter impressed me.  It made me recognize that I had become close to what Zaccheus had been before he had been changed.  Needless to say, I followed Zaccheus’ command.  I bought a property in a farmland not far from there.  I then sold all my rich carpets and furniture, split up my business amongst many different interested people, sold all my rich food and wine, sold my nice clothes, and sold my mansion.  I then bought some old, rough clothes for me and my family and some old wooden furniture that was also rough.  I then spread out all that I had amongst the poor people of the area.
I felt good again.  My children had no idea why we had moved, but they were happy.  My sons enjoyed working in the fields and shepherding with me and my daughters were happy weaving wool for clothes.  My wife wasn’t too happy about the change.  She complained for a time until she saw that we were a close family and were content with what we had.
    I now still live on that little farm just outside the town.  I do not make much money, but I am content with what I have.  I now pass on what Zaccheus taught me to younger generations.  The land around this town has never been so prosperous nor the people so happy and friendly.  The people are not rich economically, but they are richer than you could ever imagine emotionally and spiritually.  God has worked in this town and he can work anywhere anyone lives.  That’s the truth.  Let’s be rich.