SECOND CHANCE

Malcolm knew there were fewer days ahead than behind and was lonelier that ever. It was Christmas. He had no family and very few friends, his entire life given to work and worshipping the almighty dollar. He’d never fallen in love or had children and regretted every moment he’d wasted on meaningless things . . . and he wished he could have a second chance. He’d do everything differently.

Sitting there, staring out the window, he suddenly noticed something lying on the table. It was a scroll with a bright red ribbon wrapped around it. He glanced around the room, but knew there was nobody in his house. Everyone who worked for him were off for the holidays. Even though he didn’t know where it came from or what it even was, Malcom pulled the ribbon loose and unrolled the parchment.

At the top, in remarkable scripted handwriting were the words “The Gift of a Second Chance” and there was a list of questions beneath it. It seemed odd, but Malcolm couldn’t help himself as he pulled a pen from a nearby drawer and considered each question careful. It didn’t hurt to dream, right?

The first question was simple . . . What is your greatest regret? Malcolm knew immediately what his answer would be. Not falling in love or having a family.

As he finished writing his answer the ink on the rest of the page shifted, reorganizing almost as if it was changing because of his answer. Then, the second question blurred into focus.

What other three things would you value more than anything else? Malcolm thought about this for a moment. Of course, one of the first things that came to mind was money and success, but he knew that wasn’t the life he wanted. Success, yes, but it was more than that. He wanted to be more than that. He placed pen against paper and wrote three simple answers.

To be respected.

To be honorable.

To be brave.

It seemed simple, but he knew those were the things he’d want to be more than anything as a man, the qualities that would give him the life he’d always wanted and the qualities that would not only make him a good man, but a great husband and father.

Once again, the words swirled on the paper and a third question appeared.

Would you give up everything for this second chance?

Malcolm gazed around his elaborate home with all its vast open rooms filled with expensive everything, but at its heart it was completely empty . . . just like Malcolm. His answer was simple. YES. He’d give it all up without a thought.

As he wrote the final answer, the words on the paper began to swirl again, but Malcolm found his mind swirling with them as he grew dizzy. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off, his body going numb as he tried to stay awake. He blinked, the world around him blurring in and out of reality as he saw his things and house and world begin to break apart around him. Finally, he couldn’t fight it anymore and closed his eyes completely. He felt strange, his body burning up as his memories scattered in his mind. It didn’t make sense, but it felt like he was being rewritten somehow. It hurt and before he knew it, he blacked out.

He awoke as somebody bumped into him and he came to, blinking back to reality as he took in his surroundings. He wasn’t in a large mansion anymore. He was . . . he was in an airport and incredibly disoriented. He glanced around, realizing he’d just gotten off a plane. There were people everywhere, mostly military men and women and, as he looked down at himself, he noticed he was wearing a uniform and . . . his body was different. Looking at his hands, he saw how young and masculine they were and he had a duffle bag in tow as well as an army cap. Reaching up to his head, he felt his buzzed hair and then realized he was taller than before. Was this really happening?

He continued to walk forward as he saw a woman who looked familiar. She was with a little boy and before her name came to mind she was waving at him.

“Mark!” She screamed, moving closer. That as his name now . . . Lieutenant Mark Harper. He found himself filled with excitement as he moved faster towards her . . . it was his wife. Jennifer. A flood of memories hit him as he moved faster toward her until she was in his arms and he was kissing her.

It felt incredible . . . perfect as he took his son in his arms and held him tight.

“Hey little man,” he said. His voice was familiar but incredibly different as drew his son into his arms. This was it. He had the family he’d always dreamed of. He was respected, honorable and brave . . . but more than anything Mark Harper was loved as he returned home from a tour overseas and spent the first of many amazing holidays with his family.