I gave them both everything they wanted, spoken and unspoken. My boys were so different. The youngest wanted everything, so I gave it to him. I would always move mountains for my boys. The eldest looked at me with pity when his brother went, saying nothing. You do not have to use words to speak. I kept track of the youngest through friends and business contacts. He seemed to have lots of friends. I was glad of that.

I heard his friends began to drift away as his money ran out, and then I heard nothing. He seemed to have vanished. There was an ache in my heart. I sent out word I was looking for him, but there was nothing apart from silence. The leaders in the community thought I was mad to be looking. He has brought shame on you and your name, and upon us.

He dare not show his face here, they said. We will deal with him as our laws demand. I was silent. I desire mercy and love, not just obedience to a written code. I scanned the horizon day after day, watching, hope fresh each morning and dying each evening. My eldest still pitied me. We worked together on the land, but barely spoke.

As hope was fading completely, I saw a speck on the horizon. No bigger than someone’s hand. My heart pounded. I knew it was him. My heart sang with the song I had sung over him since before he was born. Closer and closer he came. Others saw him too. They looked at me and wondered what I would do. I ran, I danced, and ran, holding out my arms, enveloping him in my embrace. No one could touch him whilst I had him.

Father, he said. I shushed him. I asked my servants to get him some clean clothes, and shoes for his calloused feet. I washed them before he put the shoes on. I welcomed him, asking no questions. Knowing that others would have questions for me.

My eldest boy did not share my joy. In all the long years of being and working together, it seems he had learnt nothing from me. He disappeared into the night, and I long for his return.

(c) Kevin Ellis