Please, Boy, Be Grateful

By Erica Molfetto

Adam Priestley was born into a wealthy family. They had nice cars, a big house, wonderful connections, and lots of disposable income. Adam took it all for granted, for all of his life. Since he had been so accustomed to his butlers and maids doing all of his work, he had never fully appreciated his life, nor did his parents force him to do so. He never was grateful for anything in his life, and treated people like dirt. His butler would always say, “Please, boy, be grateful.” Yet Adam never listened. There was a boy he bullied all through High School -- Jeremy Smith, the class geek. Jeremy never did anything to hurt him, or to make Adam feel bad about him. Yet for four years, he spent countless hours doing Adam’s homework in hopes of becoming popular. One night after a championship football game, a fellow classmate planned to beat up Adam. Luckily, Jeremy was there and took Adam home before he even suspected someone was after him. Adam never appreciated that favor.

Adam, now age 37, recently contracted Pancreatic Cancer and he often lies in pain from the chemotherapy. One day, a doctor came into the room and Adam recognized him instantaneously. The figure in the doorway was a small figured, tall lanky character.

“Jeremy? Buddy, is that you?” Adam meekly asked.

“Well if it isn’t Adam Priestley. Long time, no see,” Jeremy replied timidly, looking over Adam’s medical records.

“I see you’ve got cancer. I’m so sorry,” Jeremy stated, stuttering.

“You know Jeremy, I’ve been lying in this bed so long, that it woke me up. I’ve been thinking through the pain, like I’ve never done before. I thought back to the days in high school. Pretty wild times, eh?”

“Sure,” Jeremy giggled a little to himself, recalling Adam’s cruelty.

“I never thanked you. You pretty much saved me from that night. If you didn’t drive me home that night, I would have done something I would have regretted, no doubt. I was never grateful that you did my homework. I know that ‘sorry’ isn’t going to undo all of those horrible things I did. But while I’m lying here, I might as well try. I never have felt more grateful for what I’ve had all of my life until now, isn’t that sad? My fortune from when my parents died, I now spend on medical bills and heating pads. I’m not asking for your forgiveness Jeremy. I just want you to know that I regret treating you badly.”

“Adam, I’ve always seen the good in you. Why do you think I stuck around, and saved you? Your time is precious now, so why don’t you stop regretting and start living? Silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone. Start being grateful now.” Late into the night, Adam sat there, and thought about what Jeremy had said for quite some time. When he left the hospital, he knew his time was limited. He knew he had to do something. As Adam walked back from the drugstore, he noticed a boy on the corner begging for money. The boy wore baggy pants, and a ripped tank top.

“Money for the poor, man?” he asked.

“You’re not poor boy.”

“Sir, just look at me! I have nothing. I stand here on this corner all day! I barely get anything, well, accept quarters and the occasional dime.”

“There’s only one difference between you and me, boy. You’ve got your health. I have tumors growing in my pancreas. What good is money anyway? It can only buy you half a life of misery and gluttony, the other half spent lying in bed regretting what you haven’t done.” Adam then dropped two one hundred dollar bills into the boy’s hands and pleaded, “Please, boy, be grateful.”