The Parable

The Parable

A little boy approached his dad, with brows in thought and furrowed,
“Is it good to believe in God, or something to be sorrowed?
At school they laugh and call me dumb, they say that faith’s outdated,
The clever ones believe in facts, in science educated.”

The father sighed and closed his eyes, his heart a mix of thunder—
A man of faith, a bit old-school, but never void of wonder.
“How do I explain,” he said, “with calmness, not derision,
The truth a boy must one day face, with clarity and vision?

That in the realm of things unseen, belief’s a deeper duty,
That knowing why is not as great as seeing silent beauty.”
And now, my friends, I’ll share with you the words he gave his son,
For they might help some heart today before the day is done:

“You know that eagles hatch in nests high up on rocky towers,
Yet fear the sky—their wings unsure, unaware of their powers.
They do not know they’re built to fly, they tremble at the ledge,
To fall is death—but staying too is living on a ledge.

It takes great faith to leap and glide the moment they are driven,
But staying in the nest, my son, is not what they were given.
Why, you’ll learn when you grow strong and wisdom gently gathers—
For now, just trust in me, my son, like I once did your grandfathers.

To believe in God is good—believe without delay,
Trust Him just as you trust me, without a need to sway.
Just like the eagle chick who trusted what his parents told—
That he would soar and never fall, that faith would make him bold.”