WELL-RESPECTED AND wealthy farmer Jack Glamis sat and looked at his account-book. He realized that there was a vast surplus and that his profitability was growing. He’d made good decisions about crops and other investments on Glamis Farm, and was going to be very well-off for the rest of his days.
So he gave thanks to God and decided to make a charitable donation to the Fund for the Assistance of the Suddenly Homeless In Our Neighbourhood. This organization supported homeless people in a far-away place known as Dissipation City, where the need was great.
His donation could provide beds, facilities and workers in a hostel for those who were down and out. He paid the money, and felt like he’d made a seriously worthwhile contribution.
However, the day after he’d spent all his liquid assets, his younger son Thomas made some demands. ‘Look, Father, the time has come for me to get out of this dead-end place. I can see there’s no future for me here, so what I want to do is to fast-forward to the time when you die, and take my inheritance now.’
‘Are you wishing me dead, then, son?’
‘Not exactly. But I’m wishing I didn’t have to wait and work and wait and work and wait some more until I get the chance to make something of myself…'
‘You don’t think staying here and working on my farm could possibly be the course your life is supposed to take?’
‘No, I intend to have a good time and then see what I can do with some serious capital.
‘Well, you have no right to demand this of me, but I’ll agree anyway, and let you have the cash as soon as I can raise it.’ He looked again at his accounts and sighed. There was no way he could afford to give Thomas the money he asked for; he had no cashflow left. So he had to persuade a few local farms to buy some of his fields, complete with the crops that had already been planted and nurtured, and raise the money that way. It was shortsighted business practice, but it was necessary.
It was unlikely to be a success long-term; but then disaster struck.
to be continued
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