Miss Neuenkirche welcomed her new set of third-grade students with a smile. She had high hopes for the class—while it wouldn’t be easy for all of them to get good grades, she felt confident she could help them all get there.
She quickly discovered how far from easy it would be.
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Late last May, I felt impressed to set a goal to write and publish 100 of my own parables by the third anniversary of launching The Weekly Parable, which falls near the end of April. At the time, I had published 70. To be honest, after having written that many, writing another 30 seemed like a tall order.
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Cillian’s court date was only one week away, and his stomach churned every time he thought about it.
He was sitting in the living room of his apartment when a knock came at the door. Through the peephole, Cillian saw his probation officer—who wore his nearly permanent scowl—with another man he didn’t recognize. He let them in.
The second man introduced himself as James Lewis. “I’ve been appointed by the court as barrister in your defense,” he said upon a handshake with Cillian. However, I can’t represent you unless you agree to it in advance.” Mr. Lewis produced a document from his briefcase and offered it. Cillian took it and skimmed it. Near the bottom was a line for his signature.
“I have a few requirements for those I represent,” Mr. Lewis said. “I’ll send you that information by email tomorrow. All of it will help us prepare for the hearing. Don’t worry, it’s all above board.”
Hesitantly, Cillian signed the paper and handed it back. He wondered about the nature of these requirements. But he knew he stood no chance of getting a favorable outcome without an expert to defend him.
When he saw Mr. Lewis’s email, he almost fired back an angry retort. Lewis wanted him to send back copies of his bank statements from the entire time of his probation. The record of everywhere he’d gone during that time made sense, but bank statements? And just as bad—his Internet browsing history. Cillian started to panic.
But remembering that he didn’t have a prayer in the world, he decided he may as well. What could he lose?
The day of the hearing arrived. Cillian woke up in a cold sweat that stayed with him even after a shower. He knew the magistrate would throw the book at him. He had screwed up. He had fallen short of the strict rules he was supposed to follow.
On his arrival in the courtroom, he saw in the probation officer’s face that he would love nothing better than for the magistrate to find that Cillian had violated his agreement and would have to be incarcerated. But then Mr. Lewis arrived with a placid expression and shook Cillian’s hand with a warm, steady grip. Then he sat at Cillian’s side. Cillian’s heart calmed a tad. But his mouth was still dry.
The magistrate entered the room and called the room to order. He asked the probation officer to lay out the facts surrounding Cillian’s adherence to the rules he had been given. The officer said little of anything Cillian had done well and focused on the places where he had slipped up, even just a little.
“Mr. Lewis,” said the magistrate, “please present your case.”
“I’m happy to, Your Honor,” Mr. Lewis said, standing. He opened his briefcase and took out a stack of papers. “I have done extensive research into my client’s activities during his probationary period. It’s true that he has operated outside the rules from time to time. But as I’ve studied his activities, a clear pattern emerged.”
He spread the papers across the judge’s bench.
“The fact is, Your Honor, that my client could have broken the rules much more than he did. He had many opportunities. Probably due at least in part to the officer’s providing them. When you compare what he has been doing to what he did that led to probation in the first place, a clear pattern emerges. He is trying to change.”
The magistrate leaned back in his chair, and his expression softened. Cillian’s heart leaped.
“That doesn’t matter!” burst out the probation officer. “He broke some of the rules. Therefore he has to go to prison.”
“I believe His Honor has some discretion here,” Mr. Lewis countered. “The rules are clear, but the magistrate’s options are also clear. For someone who is showing progress and a desire to improve, prison is not the answer. I propose that my client’s probation continue and that supervision be transferred to me.”
The probation officer frowned deeply as he regarded first Mr. Lewis and then the magistrate.
“I have never steered you wrong yet,” Mr. Lewis told the magistrate softly.
“That you have not,” replied the other. “You have an uncanny ability to analyze the facts and understand people’s intent. Your client’s probation is hereby extended 12 months, and supervision is transferred to you. I will see you here again in 12 months’ time.” Down came the gavel. The magistrate stood, wished them all a good day, and left the room.
Shocked, Cillian followed Mr. Lewis out of the courtroom. “What just happened?” he blurted out.
“I have been in hundreds of hearings over the years with this particular magistrate,” Mr. Lewis told him with a smile. “He appoints me as the defense every chance he gets. He wants to be as lenient as the law allows, but he needs me to stand as advocate for that to be possible.
“Now, you’ve been granted a stay of imprisonment. Let’s go get some lunch and talk about what you’re going to do to become completely free next time. It’s on me.”
Cillian was only too happy to oblige. “You’re the man in charge,” he said.
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Digital dashboards and satellite imagery sprawled on bright monitors in a semicircle around Scott’s workstation; just beyond them, a bay of wide windows gave him a view of Earth’s surface. He had a job unlike anyone else’s—he lived in a small space station orbiting the planet and used all of the cutting-edge tools in existence to monitor weather patterns and communicate with authorities across the world. From his perch miles above the atmosphere, he felt like he could see everything.
The administrators at a certain elementary school held a science fair in the gym, and each grade of children attended in turn. This wasn’t the sort of science fair where the kids brought their own science projects; instead, professional scientists came and gave demonstrations of their branches of science. Their presentations elicited excited cries and laughter from the kids.
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