11 Rite of Passage
The old man looked at his grandson, then,
and their eyes met, at last.
“Do you remember what I told you that day,
Z. Tyler?” Bapa asked.
The boy did not hesitate; he had always
been a good listener.
“Sure, Bapa. You said that it had been the
most magnificent animal that you had ever seen, a great trophy, and that you
could have shot it, too. You said that you didn’t because that was my deer, for
the taking. But, because I had elected to allow it to live, you couldn’t bag
it, either.”
“That’s right, Son. That was your deer,
and it was your right to let it go.”
“But, I thought you just said that to make
me feel better because I was weak and had disappointed you. That’s why I felt
so bad---and…why I had cried.”
With that confession, twelve years after
the fact, he looked like a little boy finally relieved of a heavy burden which
had secretly haunted him for too long.
Bapa pulled the boy close and hugged him
tightly.
“You are not weak, but strong! You became
your own man that day, and I was well aware of that rite of passage. Not many
people have the integrity, the mental capacity, the intestinal fortitude to
live their beliefs. That takes a deep conviction born of virtue, a pure,
distinct under-standing of your beliefs steeled by challenge of, and strict
adherence to, your worthy values. It requires shear courage to stand tall
against all odds when you feel that your conclusions are pure and right and
true. That’s what you accomplished that day. You made me so very proud of you.”
A look of understanding came over the
young man, along with a peaceful solitude.
“It’s easy to talk the talk, Son, as your
generation might put it; it is quite another matter altogether to walk the
walk.” Bapa paused, letting that assessment sink in.
“I wanted you to know that it is always alright
to say ‘No!’ at any time, to anyone, in any situation. Decisions based on
beliefs that are tried and true, Christian values, those that will stand the
test of time, that can be scrutinized and analyzed and challenged for their
purity, for their rightness, conclusions which make you proud, those judgments
can never be wrong, not in any way---ever. They don’t bend with the way the
social or cultural wind blows; they are solid.
“You will have to make choices all through
life. Others will try to influence you to join their opinion; it is up to you
to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. Once you capitulate, once you ‘do’ the deed, any deed,
then, you can never, again, in honesty, deny the committing of your performed action.”
Bapa paused. Then, with a sincere look
into his grandson’s eyes, he added, “All of this, you already know; I think,
you always have, since little on.
“But, for our little girls, it seems, ever
more so important that they understand their right to make decisions based on
decency and honesty, upon their own values and their virtues. I told you, long
ago, that should an occasion arise in which you were uncomfortable, uneasy,
that you could call me and I would come and get you, no questions asked.”
Z. Tyler nodded his recollection of that
offer; he had kept it in his mind.
“We need to impress that truth on our
girls. It is of utmost importance that they know, without a doubt, that they
can say ‘No’ and that we will support and protect them in that decision,” Bapa
stated. “That’s what you did that day of the ‘Albino’ and I was so very proud
of you.
“Hypocrisy is just one more form of lying,
the plague of modern man, his culture and our society. If a man cannot honor
his principles at all times by standing tall in light of their truth,
impervious to the repercussions, whatever they may be and from whomever they
may come, then, that individual is not a man and cannot, in good conscience,
hold his head high…ever.
“‘Courage of
conviction’ isn’t just some fancy catch phrase; it’s a way of life, something
outside the natural realm. It is a noble endeavor. Doing what you believe to be
the right thing, even when you thought it would please me to behave
differently…well, you proved yourself that day. A man is recognizable not by
the length of his shadow, but by the strength of his stance.”
They sat in silence then, the reverie
forging even stronger the steel bond between them; two men together, yet alone
in common qualities of independence and individualism. No human eyes could see
the camaraderie; yet, the sense permeated their very being that, this was meant
to be.
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