The Fisherman

Rain began falling lightly on the pier. Disturbing the small bobber floating atop the water. Slowly the fishing line was reeled in, ending on a rod in the hands of an old fisher. With a gray beard and a slight smile, the fisher slowly got up holding his fishing rod in one hand and picking up a bucket of the day's catch: four fish. He pulled the hood of his yellow raincoat up and began to walk home. On his way someone began to wave, "hey! Fisherman!" the man, James, called through the rain. He didn't have a coat and was getting wet as he approached the fisherman. "Hey, I'm struggling a lot right now, can I have one of your fish to eat?" Without question, judgment, or words, the fisherman, with the same smile from the pier, the man handed James two fish. "Thank you, fisherman, truly. I promise this won't go unpaid, much love to you." The fisherman smiled and bowed his head before continuing back to his house.

This was normal for the fisherman: fishing, getting asked for fish constantly. Everyone loved the fisherman, he was kind, always willing to help, always willing to share, one day he even gave all of his day's catch away and went home empty-handed, but continued on with a smile on his face.

He was a giver, this fisherman. He would wake up early and begin fishing throughout the day, knowing people would come to him, some in need, some in want, asking for fish. He would always give them the fish they requested, and oftentimes he is given gratitude, he is complimented, and held to a high standard; everyone knows the saint fisherman; however, when he woke up, as he fished, as he gave away his fish, as he walked home, as he went to sleep, as he wore that wonderfully hypnotic smile, he wasn't satisfied. Not to say he didn't want to give people fish, or that he didn't enjoy to fish, he loved both of those things and did them with humbleness and appreciation. But... something was missing.

One day, the fisherman received a knock on his door. He opened the door to see James, wearing nice clothing, a beaming grin on his face, and he was holding many gifts. "Fisherman, one day, even when I asked for one, you gave me two fish when I was struggling to eat. Because of your kind-hearted actions, I was inspired to give. I became successful and started charities, one of them in your name. I said that the fish would no go unpaid, and I am here to offer you these gifts to repay your fish, even more, repay your kindness. The fisherman smiled and gave his thanks for the gifts and words of motivation and impression due to James' success. "I deserve no thanks from you, and I will continue to move forward with the words you have given me. Thank you, fisherman." The fisherman's heart was touched by the gifts, yet, when he went to sleep that night, something was still missing.

As time went on the fisherman continued his cycle: fishing, giving, returning home. Until he got a knock on his door once more, and he saw a teenager he'd never met before. "Hi, my name is Cameil. I know of you and your beautiful deeds. Fisherman, I have come here with a request, will you hear me out?" Taking the fisherman's unchanging smile as a response, Cameil continued, "will you teach me how to fish?"

Hearing this, the fisherman's smile grew into a beautiful grin, extenuating the wrinkles on his face. "Yes."