The Magic Mirror

by Michael Gemignani

glad you came back to see us. Emily and I will always be grateful for what you did for us.@

  AWe were glad we could help you,@ I responded.

  But what would have happened, I thought, if we had not found them. Eventually, their daughter would have come to check on them. By then it might have been too late. Did we do them a favor by rescuing them only to have them lose their farm and find themselves here?

  ADid you visit the farm?@ Hiram asked, lifting his head slightly off his pillow.

  AYes, we did,@ David answered.

  Emily smiled broadly. AAnd the animals, are they being well taken care of?@

  David, Robin, and I stood awkwardly for a moment not sure of what to say. It was Robin who broke the silence. AYes, the animals are being well taken care of. You have lovely fields too.@

  AI=m so glad,@ Emily said with evident emotion. AOur animals and crops were always so important to us.@

  I looked at Robin who was smiling broadly. Robin had chosen to lie for Emily and Hiram=s sake. The truth B that their daughter had chosen to sell the farm rather than maintain it B would have brought them both immense grief.

  Could I judge the daughter? Keeping her parents in a nursing home was expensive. Probably the only thing of worth that they had was their farm. The daughter=s choice to sell may well have been as painful for her as it would have been for her parents to learn about it.

  Could I judge Robin? His lie was probably one of the most loving acts of his life. If there is a penalty for lying, he had chosen to take it on himself rather than inflict pain on Hiram and Emily. Robin had always been scrupulously honest in his business dealings. To his credit, he had never cheated his clients or told them something he did not believe was true. But he lied now out of concern that the truth would wound.

  The nursing home invited us to have lunch with Hiram and Emily. The fare was hardly up to Robin=s standards, or even David=s and mine, but we took our pleasure from being present to the dear folks we had come to see.

  After lunch, we said our goodbyes. Each of us, including Robin, gave Hiram and Emily a big hug. We walked quietly back to the car, got in, and were once again on the road.

  The Road to Hardwick

  I turned my head toward Robin who was sitting in the back seat. AThank you for handling that question about the farm. You were able to think faster than I could.@

  Robin smiled. AIt was a new experience for me to lie like that, but I felt somehow I had to. I never thought I would hurt my clients by telling the truth. In fact, my reputation for honesty was one reason I was successful selling securities. But I knew I would hurt Hiram and Emily if I told the truth.

  AThis visit was a new experience for me. The way that Hiram and Emily looked at one another told me how much in love they were. As I was watching them, I thought of my own parents and the life they have shared. I=m sure they look at one another the same way. And I suspect that they feel about their farm the same way that Hiram and Emily feel about theirs. It gives meaning to their lives. They see in their crops and animals beauty and wonder that I failed to see before I left home. I was so wrapped up in myself that I never looked beyond myself to see what my parents saw, or even, for that matter, even to see my parents. When I get back home again it will be as if I am seeing them for the first time.@

  Robin was silent for a moment. ABut I wonder if I could ever put my parents in a place like Sunnydale. Yes, the patients there receive the care they need, but can they receive the love they need? I had never really thought about needing love, needingsomeone who truly cared about me for my own sake and not because I could make them money.

  A My parents must have loved me that way. When I ran away, I must have hurt them terribly. I couldn=t blame them if they=d given up on me and disowned me. But they still cared about me, and they sent you to find me so they would know whether I was alive or dead, and whether I=d be willing to come home to see them again.@

  David spoke. AI started this journey not knowing what I was to learn from it. I just had to get away from a family that was hurting me by how it was acting. Their love, if there was any love, was for money and the business that provided the luxuries they enjoyed.

  AI>ve seen how many other people live, most of them with far less money than I had. The love that Hiram and Emily have for one another and the years they shared tending their farm is something that money can=t buy.

  AI wonder now if I should even go back. I can=t teach my aunt and uncle and my sisters how to love. Perhaps I can show them how to love through my own actions and the way I relate to them, but that will require me to sacrifice myself first to their own selfishness. I=ll have to show them that I love them in spite of how they treat me or how much they share the business with me, and not because they let me regain control of the family=s affairs.

  APerhaps I should just let them go their own way. They don=t need me. I still have my own money is a separate trust account. I could buy a business or a farm and settle down. I might even find a wonderful woman who would marry me, and the two of us could build our life together as Hiram and Emily did. It all sounds more and more attractive the more I think about it.@

  AYes, it must seem quite attractive,@ I countered. AThe world we build with our imaginations is often far more appealing than the world in which we have to live. David, if you did not return to your family, that might haunt you for the rest of your life. You=re part of their world, and, with the death of your parents, you have a responsibility to look after your family=s welfare. That is how your parents wanted it.

  AI, too, must return to parents I thought disliked me. Perhaps they did, in fact, dislike me. Maybe they didn=t even want me. But I don=t think that=s the case. I believe I was at fault because I did not appreciate who they were. Like Robin, I wanted more than I could find at home. That=s good. I should want to learn as much as I can, to grow and develop, to stretch my imagination and my skills as far as they can stretched.

  ABut my parents are a big part of who I am and what I will become. I can=t turn my back on them, even if I find out later that they didn=t even miss me once I ran away. If I find that they didn=t want me to return home, that would hurt me deeply. But love involves a risk of being hurt. That is, I think, part of what love is about, at least love given that does not ask for something in return.@

  There was silence for several minutes. Then Robin spoke. AI=ve already learned much from the two of you. You didn=t have to look for me, but you did because it was important to my parents. Once you found me, you could have left me when I told you I didn=t want to return. But you kept after me, even letting me have the precious mirror that had led you to me. The mirror showed me what my future would have been had I remained at the bank. And then, when I defied that future, the mirror shattered.

  AI want you to know that I am glad that I defied that future. Even if I could have kept making money without fear of betrayal by my colleagues, my life, I realize now, would have been empty. My money could buy things, but it could not buy the love of others. I would have lived a life without genuine love. Yes, love of money, I could care about money, but money would never care about me.

  AWhether I decide to stay at the farm or move on, my life has to have a deeper meaning than accumulating wealth. I already have more money than I need. Someday I hope I can use it to good purpose, a purpose that will bring love both to myself and to others.@

  We drove on through a countryside spotted with homes of rich and poor; farms with black wrought-iron fences and gates opening on to long, broad driveways; small farms with mobile homes; shacks with broken-down cars in the yard, a reminder of my parents= place. Billboards, large and small; restaurants so small, I wondered how they could survive; convenience stores with a gas pump in front.

  Each of the people living in the houses, large and small; tending to the farms and the stores; waiting on others, or being waited on themselves, each of these had a story to tell. I would have liked to ha
ve spent time with each of them hearing their stories. But this could not be. We still had to return to Martha and Samuel within the three months limit I had promised. And, anyway, I doubt that these people would share their stories with me, if they even thought they had a story to share. Most of them, I suspect, just live their lives within the boundaries of their own little world and do not conceive of themselves as being the central character in an interesting tale.

  If I asked them what love means to them, what would they tell me? Do they love another? Did they feel loved in return? Do they even love themselves? It struck me that we learn to love by being loved, and by seeing how others love. The love that Hiram and Emily shared was one of the most powerful lessons about love in our entire journey. Yet. I could not have appreciated their teaching without having lived the other parts of our journey: the strange man with whom we had breakfast, the peculiar houses in the forest and the men who greeted us there.

  Yes, the men who greeted us there looked like those we feared, but they were kind and helped us on our way. They were a better side of those from whom we had fled, a side that we might have seen and come to appreciate had we but looked for it.

  We were now only about an hour away from Hardwick.

  ADavid, what do you think?@ I asked. ADo we dare stop and find out what happened after they drove us out of the city council meeting?@

  AWhy would we want to know?@ David replied. AIf Daniel kept his promises, which I doubt, they=ll make fun of us for having tried to convince them that Daniel is a thief. And if Daniel cheated them, then they might well beat us up, or worse. Daniel is too well protected for them to attack, but they could take out their anger and frustration on us.@

  AAnd why would they want to beat us up?@ I asked. AWe were the ones who warned them about Daniel.@

  Robin laughed. ANo one likes the bearer of bad news, or prophets of doom, particularly prophets of doom who turn out to be right.

  ABut they don=t know me. I could make some inquiries while you stay in the car. But don=t let people look too closely at you. They might recognize you, and I might lose my ride.@

  AThat=s not funny, Robin,@ I said. AMaybe we=d be better off just driving straight through town without stopping.@

  ALet=s see what things look like when we get there,@ David countered. AWe can decide then what to do.@

  And so we drove on to Hardwick.

  Hardwick Revisited

  The sign read:

  Welcome to Hardwick

  Home of Daniel Enterprises

  Population 15,400

  Because of our previous experience with Daniel, neither David nor I were surprised that Daniel had moved quickly to advertise himself. At least, he had not demanded that the town change its name to bestow even greater glory on himself. But, as yet, we saw no oil derricks, pipelines, and storage tanks that might reveal Daniel=s activity.

  As we drove further toward the center of town, we began to see more trucks, heavy equipment, and derricks that signaled that Daniel had begun his search for oil. One well was being drilled in the spacious front yard of a inviting colonial home. A fence that had graced the yard had been torn down and the pieces stacked in a pile by the side of the road. A forlorn AFor Sale@ sign stood in a corner of the yard.

  AIt looks like the owners of that house are trying to escape the mess Daniel is making,@ I remarked.

  David replied. AOf course, it=s too late now. No one will buy their house with an oil well in the front yard. I wonder what Daniel is paying them. Maybe he=ll buy the house himself.@

  ANo doubt, he=ll buy the house later,@ Robin said. AHe=ll wait and then pay pennies on the dollar for what the house is