The Boy who would be Great

Once, there was a baby boy, born with a cute face and a lot of charm, to a family of grace and prestige. The adults would gather around his carriage, and smile at his parents, “Look at that grin! This boy will grow up to be a fine man! With parents like you, how could he not!”

And his parents nodded in agreement. They knew their son would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.

As the months went by, and the boy doubled in size, and his vocabulary grew and grew, his elementary school teachers would fawn over him, day in and day out. They’d write to his parents, “Look at his brain! His IQ is so high! This boy will grow up to be a talented man! With parents like you, how could he not!”

And his parents pinned these reports to their refrigerator, smiling knowingly any time they glanced at it. They knew their son would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.

As the years went by, and the boy doubled in size once more, and his test scores soared miles above his peers’, his high school college counselor would say, “Look at his scores! He can get into any college he wishes! This boy will grow up to be an educated man! With parents like you, how could he not!”

And his parents saved all of his acceptance letters in a scrapbook they’d kept above the mantle, and were always happy to let their guests glance at them when they visited. They knew their son would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.

As the years kept on, and the boy studied and studied, his parents paid for him to obtain degree after degree — a bachelors, a masters, and a PhD, turned into three. His professors would write him recommendations letters that’d say, “Look at his degrees! He is so well versed! This boy will grow up to be a successful man! With parents like his, how could he not!”

And he’d call home to his parents and tell them so, and they’d nod along to his words and smile. They knew their son would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.

As the years continued to go on by, and the boy’s parents exited this life, and the his fascination with his family history grew, he spent his days putting his academic skills to work, researching his genealogical tree. He wrote paper after paper about his father and his father’s father, and his mother and his mother’s mother. His friends would listen to him talk about them and all that they had done, and they would say, “Look at your heritage! Your family is so interesting! You will go on to be an interesting man! With parents like yours, how could you not!”

And the boy looked at his findings, all bound up and organized, and nodded knowingly. He knew that he would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.

And as the years came to an end, and the boy— who was very much long since a man by this point in time — as his life came to a close, and the people who knew him sorted through his belongings, they came across the boxes, full of the progress reports, and the diplomas, and the certificates, and the essays that the boy had collected throughout his years. They looked at them all, and thought back to the man they once knew and sighed.

For all he had left to his name was the evidence to prove that he would be great one day, for he was destined to be so.