The Secret - When You Can Walk On Water, Take The Boat ( Part 1 )

s evening time. Not completely dark, but with traces ofthe guy, I thought. A total stranger, and he wanted to
the day still remaining.Everyone had left the office and Iknow what took me so long. Ingratitude really bothers
was there all alone completing the few tasks thatme. It struck me as somewhat strange, however, that
remain at the end of any day. It is not my nature tohe seemed to have been expecting me. A totally
work late, but today was somewhat different.Mixedimprobable assumption I felt, as I quickly dismissed the
with a feeling of accom- plishment was thethought.
frustrationand disappointment of not having completedPeering under the hood I shouted, “Try the motor
all I would have liked to do.once more.” He did, and it immediately sprang to
My office was at the end of the building, overlookinglife and continued running with a beautiful purr as if
the parking lot. The lot was empty save for my littlenothing ever had been the matter with it. The bearded
car, which appeared to be waiting so patiently. Alwaysone got out of his car, walked up to me, thrust out his
it seemed to be waiting for me, never complaining,hand and said, “Hi! It's good to see you again for
always nearby. “Time to leave,” I thought.the first time. My name is Gideon.”
“I'm already late.” If there's one consola-“Hello, Mr. Gideon, it's nice to meet you,” I
tion, it was that there wouldn't be any traffic at thisstammered, shaking his outstretched hand. “My
hour.name is John.”
Glancing through the window as I reached for my atta-“Yes, I know,” he said. This took me by
ché case, I noticed a blue car a few spacessurprise. I had never seen the man before. He wore
removed from mine. The hood was raised and itblue jeans and a flannel shirt and appeared to be
seemed as if someone was trying to fix something. Itsomewhere between the ages of fifty and sixty. He
wasn't unusual for cars to limp into our parking lot withwasn't tall. His hair was jet black and neatly combed
some problem or other. I descended the stairs to thewith one lock falling idly over his right brow. The beard
main door, set the night alarm and walked out of thewhich was as black as his hair was full and trimmed,
building.but his eyes were his most noticeable feature. Even in
The blue car was still there with its hood pried open.the dim light of the street lamp, one could see those
With the idea of seeing whether I could be of any help,piercing orbs and know they had lived a legend. Such
I cau- tiously approached. Through the window in thedetermination in those eyes, and yet, such kindness as
dim light, I saw a bearded face smiling back at me.well. Although I noticed all these things in a split second,I
“What took you so long? I thought you mightkept staring at him all the while.
have changed your mind,” he said. The nerve of