One always remembers the life-changing moments that occur in the crisp dawn hours, the stillness contrasting with the shivering. Groggily waking up, yearning for the warmth of the bed. However the fear of the consequences of dallying remains present.
In a small hamlet in medieval England, a pre-adolescent boy trudged down the main road to the imposing preceptory at the end of the main avenue. Stumbling along as only a person unused to waking up before dawn and struggling to see in the twilight. The dirty street urchin crossed in the preceptory grounds, he looked around trying to determine where he must go.
Marveling at the stone buildings all around with the colored glass inset into the smooth exterior. The young boy took in the sight of the rising dawn sparkling in the crystalline kaleidoscope.
The grounds were immaculately maintained with small paths leading from the gate to the door of the chapel and leading to the other buildings arranged in a square set behind a short stone wall. With all the paths lined with wilting greenery.
Determining that the lit chapel was where his destination lay, he trudged on to find someone who could satisfy his goals. There was a mild clamor coming from behind the chapel doors as the boy walked to the door. He could not make out what the sound was meant to be, as muffled as it was.
The boy reached for the door but he stopped mid-reach. Considering if this was the life path he wanted to dedicate himself to. But looking at the dirt under his fingernails and the rumble he was feeling in his stomach he was willing to take his chances with the Church.
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With his resolved steeled the young boy made his way into chapel. Pushing on the door and with a loud creak it answered in kind. Drowning out the singing monks and spotlighting the elderly figure standing at the front in the dawn.
All within turned to face the door. Within an instant he wilted under the sudden attention. The boy had never been near this many people and never the center of attention to boot. After a moment or two, for the youth’s eyes to adjust to the light, that he noticed the figure he was staring down the aisle in the chapel, was enormous.
“Welcome young child.” The giant called out “are you lost perhaps?”
The boy was thrown into a state of disarray at the simultaneous surge of attention and the shock of being addressed by the giant. After a moments hesitation he remembered his purposed and spoke.
“I’ve come… to pledge myself… for a life of service… to the Knights Templar.” The boy haltingly spoke.
The giant robed in white raised an eyebrow. “You’ve come to give up all your worldly possessions in exchange for poverty?”
“Yes.” the boy replied quickly
“Go home to your parents, boy, go home before they wake up and discover you are gone.”
“My Pa is dead and I never knew my Ma.” The willful boy stood his ground at the entrance of the chapel. Commitment to this course of action could be seen in the stance of his shoulders.
“I see.” The giant thoughtfully replied “My name is Bernard de Baud, what is yours boy?”
“John,” the boy moved past the threshold and shut the door behind him “like the apostle.”
