Ethan and Mr Henry

Lesson 1: The Bench in the Park

It was a brisk spring afternoon, the kind that makes the air crisp with promise as buds unfurl and sunlight dapples the ground through newly green trees. Ethan, a young architect with an ever-busy mind, wandered into the park during his lunch break, seeking solace from the hum of the city. There, on a weathered bench, sat an old man, his coat frayed and shoes scuffed. He was clearly homeless, but his eyes held a spark — a mix of wisdom and mischief that seemed to defy his circumstances.
Ethan hesitated, unsure how to approach, but his curiosity drew him closer. He offered the man a sandwich, a small gesture of kindness. The man — who introduced himself as Mr. Henry — accepted it with a warm, toothy grin. “You’re only as rich as what you’re willing to give away,” he said. The words lingered in Ethan’s mind as he walked away, intrigued by the enigmatic man. He decided to return the next day.

Lesson 2: A Pair of Shoes

The following day, Ethan noticed the state of Mr. Henry’s shoes. They were barely holding together, the soles thin as paper. Determined to help, Ethan brought a new pair of hardy fleece lined boots. Mr. Henry accepted them with gratitude, turning them over in his hands as if inspecting a fine work of art. “Boots take you places,” he said, “but it’s your feet that do the walking. Where are yours taking you?”
Ethan felt a pang of discomfort. The truth hit him: He had been moving forward in life, but not with purpose. He was following paths others had set for…