It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls,
career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the
country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had
little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son.
He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.

Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The
funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an
old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of
him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said..

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were
doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the
fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure
you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said.

"I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of
time teaching me things he thought were important... Mom, I'll be there for
the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
hometown.

Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own,
and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see
the old house next door one more time.

Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over
into another dimension, a leap through space and time.

The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every
picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box? " Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must
have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was
'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered
it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better
get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."