Becoming a Steward

Becoming A Steward

As a cat slunk across the road in front of her she tried to make sense
of it all. Why was she chosen? Why did they pick her?

Yesterday she was just another girl, calmly minding her own business,
worrying about the latest test results or the next piece of homework.
Now what was she?

As the rain beat down she did not notice - she was too absorbed in her
own thoughts to see the water that was soaking her to the skin.

Everything had changed yesterday.

She was making her way out of a classroom at the end of another day at
school. It was strangely quiet - no one else was around.

Suddenly a figure stepped in front of her. His face was kindly, but
tired - like someone's who had suffered many trials yet still thought
of others before himself. He had startled her, yet oddly she was
unafraid - as if, deep down, she knew he would not harm her.

"Christine." "How do you know my name?" "We have been watching you."
"Who are you?"

He paused, as if unsure what to say. He obviously decided to go
immediately to the truth as he said, "A steward."

"A what?" "A steward&;#8230;a guardian." "Of what?"

He directed her to the nearest classroom and motioned her to sit down.
He sat on the desk in front of her. She said nothing as she watched him
look closely at her, thinking.

"You are younger than normal," he said, simply. "What's normal? What is
going on?"

He sighed and began to tell her about himself. He was, like her,
ignorant of the stewards at one time. On his last day at university a
steward came to him - just as he had come to her - and informed him
that he was to be a steward.

He had not accepted it at first and refused to go where he was sent,
but he saw the misery that was caused by his selfishness, so he gave up
resisting and came to terms with his new fate. He soon found the
rewards that came from helping people far out-weighed the inconvenience
of having to move whenever it was demanded of him. His only slight
unhappiness stemmed from the fact that he was never permitted to stay
until the person was fully healed - as soon as someone else came along
to help he must leave and move on.

"This is your fate now." "Why?" "I do not know." He shook his head
thoughtfully. "Each steward has something special about themselves. I
don't know what you have&;#8230;I am the messenger, not the one who
chose you."

She sat silently for a while, contemplating all she had been told. It
seemed strangely&;#8230; natural&;#8230;that this should happen.
It was as if this was a destiny that she had been long searching for
but finally found.

It was too much for her.

As if he read her thoughts he said, "It is a lot for you to consider.
Go home. Think about it. Should you need me, I will come." "But how can
I contact you?" "You do not need to&;#8230;I will come."

She looked at him and nodded. Silently she turned and walked out of the
door. She didn't see&;#8230;she sensed him watching her as she
left&;#8230;and she heard - or thought she heard - a weary sigh as
she let the door shut behind her.

Well she needed him now. There were too many unanswered
questions.

"Christine."

Despite the fact that she was half-expecting him he still made her
jump.

"What do you need to ask me?" "How do I know&;#8230;if someone needs
me, I mean." "You just know&;#8230;you can tell if people are
unhappy or upset around you can't you? It just becomes obvious." "What
happens if I can't help?" "You can always help - even if it is only to
delay the inevitable and make the remainder of someone's life easier."
"So I have to give up everything I hold dear to myself?"

He looked down at his shoes, "Yes. It is a hard thing to do&;#8230;"
he looked up and searched for something in her eyes, "&;#8230;but I
believe you can do it."

For some reason his belief made all the difference. His strength gave
her the reassurance she needed to make this momentous decision,
(although she felt that even if she refused to take on the role she
would become one anyway), she would become a steward and giver her life
over to the serving of others.

She felt numb.

"Come in here," he said, indicating a shelter. She suddenly noticed
that her clothes were clinging to her, soaked through, but it did not
matter. Nothing that used to matter mattered anymore.

She sighed, resigned to the acceptance of her fate.

"When do I start?" "You started a while ago, unofficially...but you
will not be moved until you can be moved with a plausible explanation.
You have a few years here yet." "When I leave, must I leave everyone?"
"You can keep in contact with those you knew before your calling - even
those you meet from now on. But you cannot revisit those you have
helped - you can only watch from a distance. That is the hardest
part."

He stopped and looked at her.

"Are you sure you are ready to do this?" "I am sure." "Should you need
me, I will come. Have you a final question?" "How long have you been
doing this?"

For an instant she saw a shadow of old age and weariness flitter across
his face&;#8230;then it was gone.

"Many, many years now. More than I can remember. It has been long and
hard&;#8230;but I do not regret accepting my role - the satisfaction
I gain from helping one person far outweighs any amount of pain I may
suffer."

With this he turned and walked slowly away, into the rain.

She stood and wondered. Nothing would ever be the same&;#8230;but
was that such a bad thing? She did not know. She must find out from
experience.