The Prodigal Son. You remember in the parable that the Father was out on the hill searching the horizons for a glimpse of His wandering son, as must have been His daily practice…After many agonizing days, weeks, and years, the filthy son shamefully appeared. Seeing His rebellious beloved at a distance, the Father bolted after him. This lice infested, malnourished, raggedy, stinky runaway, was held in the arms of his father…

Gheorghe M. His tanned skin is dark like molasses, revealing his ancient Gypsy heritage; his eyes are a beautiful blue like cobalt, revealing his European homeland. Gheorghe also has a father that waits for him to come home, but his father is an alcoholic. If Gheorghe doesn't come home with food or money, he is beaten. His father waits for him to come home, but he won't chase after him…

Maybe that's why Gheorghe likes to be chased. A few weeks ago we were swimming in the dirty Danube . I left to buy some food and, when I came back I caught some boys smoking. The rule is that if you smoke or do drugs, you forfeit your food. The idea being that if you have money to buy drugs, you have money to buy food. Gheorghe was among the smokers, but on that hot day I wanted all to eat, so I asked the “non-smokers” to come up with a different punishment. They said the smokers had to swim to the other side of the gulf and back, and then they could eat. The smokers agreed and were off, all except Gheorghe. Gheorghe is stubborn - like a bent nail stuck in a knot of oak wood, refusing to surrender to a yanking hammer.

Because of the abuse from his father and older brothers, he doesn't accept any kind of punishment. So as the other boys were racing back, Gheorghe was pouting. But, as I told you, Gheorghe likes to be chased. I made a few quick steps toward him and he was off running. He ran around the edge of the dam and I chased him. He smiled. Gheorghe has one of the best smiles, and he laughed as he ran…

But as we hit the dirt above the steep decline to the water, we both slipped. Gheorghe slid into the water while I stopped myself at the edge. The stubborn, pouting and upset boy sat in the dirty pool laughing. I laughed, and all the other street children laughed at us.

The Prodigal Son and his father;

Gheorghe M. and his Prodigal father.

Running away, being chased;

Being caught and embraced.