Sometimes Tim and I visit model homes to get decorating ideas. That’s what we did on this beautiful Sunday afternoon while we were waiting for our granddaughter’s party to start. But, wait, this is titled “The Four Boys,” so it has nothing to do with our beautiful granddaughter who just turned seven, or the Urban Air experience, or the yummy chocolate cake, or watching children float down the zip line and run through the mazes.
Four young teenage boys from different cultural backgrounds were friends. They were wandering the street when we pulled up to the first house on model row. One was riding a bike; another was carrying a plastic baseball bat; and they were having some fun interacting with the model hosts as well as guests. We were the only guests at the moment.
They told us we would have to pay an entrance fee. They informed us we would need a million dollars to buy that house. They told us not to go inside because they were asked to leave. They were harmless, really, just hanging out and having some fun. But boys will be boys, and the agents were concerned they might accidentally break something.
After some friendly banter, off they went, and we went inside the first house.
I didn’t think more about it until we were walking down the path to the second and third house. The boys turned back around and began interacting with us. They seemed willing and even eager to engage us in conversation, so I turned back to greet them before following Tim into the model home.
I immediately picked out who was who, and decided to have some fun with them as well. Mr. Knuckles reached out his hand to shake mine, then winced as we shook hands; he showed me the sores on his knuckles. As it turns out, he was trying to adopt me as his mom so he could get inside the house. I nearly had to pry him away.
Before I went in, I felt the urge to talk with them more. I asked the boys, “You say these houses are expensive, right?”
Yeah…they all nodded their heads in agreement.
“You need at least a half-million dollars to own one, right?”
More nods. More playful hits on their friends’ arms and chest.
“Okay, so I’m going to give you a little lesson on your future. One day you’ll look back on this day and remember the crazy lady that stood in front of the model home, and you’ll thank me for this.” They got a laugh out of that, but they stuck around for more.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to think about it seriously.”
Intrigue seemed to increase.
“Look at this house. Look at it closely. What do you need to do…right now…and in the future…to buy one of these homes?” I asked.
They came up with several answers. Mr. Afro said, “play in the NFL” and “be an entrepreneur,” as Mr. Cheeseball wearing the AC/DC shirt came up with anything from selling drugs to being a porn star. He didn’t get the reaction he was seeking from me. Mr. Knuckles kept begging to be my adopted kid.
Mr. Intuitive on the bike seemed most interested as well as sincere when he said, “Save money. Get a job. Go to college.”
“Great ideas!” I said. You’re going to go places. I thought.
This conversation continued as I challenged the boys to start thinking about their future now. Today. What do they need to do to go to college (get good grades), and what if the NFL doesn’t call (if they do, you can buy a house for all your friends). Or what if that drug deal goes south. You need a better plan.
Mr. Intuitive seemed to listen the most intently, but I think the others maybe heard as well. I challenged him to think about that, to plan for his future, and to remember this conversation.
Take your future seriously. Keep a mental picture of this house, and what you need to do to buy one some day. Be smart. Don’t wait until you’re thirty and wonder what you are going to do with your life.
I said a few more things to encourage them, and then I went inside the model wondering if that conversation had an impact. Sometimes it takes just one person to leave a mark.
I know they left a soft spot in me. I truly wondered if those kids will grow up and make something of their lives. They are just hanging out, enjoying life on a Sunday afternoon. They have no idea what lies ahead of them. Will they take life for granted, or take it by the horns?
It is for moments like these that I believe I am still alive today.
As we were exiting the home, the boys were still out there. We had a few more exchanges, then Mr. Afro told me his name so I could remember him when he’s a famous NFL player. I think he was listening.
Mr. Intuitive said he would remember our talk. I looked him square in the eyes and told him he had some potential. I can see it in him. He is going to do something great with his life.
He’s already looking for ways to make money. He tried to guess my age for $20. He missed by four years.
I would have given it to him if he was right.
À la prochaine… Until next time.
. I was secretly hoping to avoid any scans before Christmas, but he wants them done before the end of the year, even better since copays start over in January. 
