Growing up, he was more than just “our son”; he was the son that every family in the area looked up to. He excelled in whatever he touched. For as long as I can remember, Jason has had a soft spot for animals.
My husband, Daniel, and I had always envisioned Jason as the future leader of our family firm. He possessed all the traits of a leader. So, when it came to selecting a college, we insisted on management.
Jason hesitated at first, but ultimately accepted. I thought we had his future all planned out. Jason was two years into college and was meant to be studying business management at a prominent university.
We sent him money every month to cover school and living expenses. Life was hectic for Daniel and me; running a business leaves little room for hesitation. We never questioned anything.
But suddenly everything began to unravel. When I arrived at the admissions office to receive his dorm address, the woman behind the desk looked confused. “Jason Reed?
I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name enrolled here. ” She checked. She checked again.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no record of a Jason Reed. Are you sure this is the right university? ” I called Jason immediately.
“I’m in town for a meeting and thought I’d surprise you. How about coffee? ” There was a pause.
“Uh, yeah, sure! Let’s meet at the café near campus. ”
When I encountered him at the café, he appeared as polished as ever—relaxed, confident, and exuding the same charisma that had everyone fooled.
“How’s school? ” I asked casually. “Midterms are coming up, so I’ve been studying nonstop.
” But the admissions clerk’s remarks rang in my head. He’s not enrolled here. I placed my fitness bracelet into his jacket pocket as we embraced farewell.
It had GPS. If Jason was lying to me, I needed to know where he was going. That evening, I obeyed the bracelet’s signal.
It took me far away from the university and the bustling city, to the outskirts of town. As I reached a tiny clearing, the GPS beeped more frequently. And there it was—a rusted old trailer, partially concealed among the trees.
I watched him knock on the trailer door. When it creaked open, another person walked out. It was my brother Tom.
I hadn’t seen him for almost a year. Tom had always been a traveler. While Daniel and I established a steady existence, Tom alternated between occupations before becoming a veterinarian.
“Jason! ” I called with a strong voice. “I should be asking you that!
” I yelled. “What is this place? Why aren’t you at school?
And why is he here? ” “I’ve been sending you money—our money—for tuition, thinking you were in college. Were you ever enrolled?
” “No. ”
“I’ve been using it to fund something…important. Uncle Tom’s been helping me.
”
“I’m building a veterinary clinic. ” “Mom, this is my calling,” Jason said, his voice steady. “You and Dad wanted me to take over the business, but that’s not who I am.
I want to help animals. ”
“You bet:ray:ed us! ” I shouted, my voice cracking.
“You’ll never see another penny from me again. ” Three months had passed and I hadn’t spoken to Jason. Then, one day, an envelope arrived via mail.
The letter read: “Dear Mrs. Reed, Thank you for believing in your son and financing his veterinary clinic. Recently, my dog was hit by a car, and your son saved her life.
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