“So when I found out about the Fountain of Youth, I set out on the impossible journey of a lifetime. I’m sure my journey was very much like the one you took. It was dangerous, risky, but I didn’t care because it was all worth it.

“I drank from the waters, and at first I was wild with exhilaration and happiness. Nothing can kill me! I was invincible! But with the passage of time, things began to fall apart. I was haughty, I was drunk with power, and not only did I witness the passing of all my loved ones, but the few close relationships I did have were shattered because of my greed. Time granted me not joy, but a prolonged darkness that seemed like it would never end.

“Nothing had any purpose to me. I was a lonely man, with eternity stretched before me like a dark tunnel that never ended.

“Crying and writhing at the feet of the great-great-grandson of the stargazer I originally went to for directions to the Fountain of Youth, I sought a way to end my suffering. I wanted the opportunity to experience what G-d created in This World to create purpose, direction, and a productive urgency in one’s life — and that is death. The one thing I had sought to avoid at all costs, I now desperately wanted.

“I was told the only cure for me was to travel back to the Fountain of Youth. And to wait… to wait until another ruler would one day come to the waters, and I would stop him from drinking and falling in the mistaken path I had taken centuries earlier. By doing this, I was told, I could finally end this life of suffering and misery and join the fate of all men.”

The king trembled as he listened to and looked at this broken, ancient creature before him.

The ancient king limped forward, tears falling from his eyes. His eyes locked on the younger king, as he said, “Please… don’t drink from the waters. Have pity on me. Have pity on yourself. Better to live a life filled with meaning and accomplishment for a few years, than to spend eternity in darkness, becoming not a better person, but a selfish, lonely creature.”

The young king looked up at the sky, his heart beating wildly and his mind racing. “If it were good to live forever, perhaps G-d would have made things that way.” He could not believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

“I will not drink of these waters. I will focus my energy on making my life meaningful, for every second the Creator grants air in my lungs and with every beat of my heart.”

The elderly king slumped to the ground, resting his head against the rocks by the waters. He looked up, first at the king, and then at the sky and he whispered, “Thank you.” His eyes closed, and there was a look of pure bliss, excitement, and relief on his face as he breathed his last.

“Your Majesty.” The general stepped forward. “What now?”

“We return home.”

“That’s it? We leave empty-handed? Back to regular life?”

“Back to our regular lives, yes. But this time—” The king glanced at the waters flowing past his feet. “This time we will try and truly live that life. That alone, General, will be a gift worth all our traveling. And it would far surpass any gift these waters could ever grant me.”

Mr. Silver finished the story just as they wheeled him back into his room. The chest was brought out and Mr. Silver opened the creaky lid. Inside were dozens of calendars from over the years of his life. He flipped through them, showing the boys all of the writings marked on each day.

“See here? Each Rosh Chodesh I kept an accounting of what I needed most to work on, to fulfill the tafkid Hashem put me on this earth for. It’s something every person can do. Look here, 1973, ‘Be kinder to wife, speak softly to children.’ And each Rosh Chodesh I would see where I was holding, what progress I had made, what areas needed strengthening.

“I treasure these calendars because they contain not only my efforts to work on my middos, but also the many days I put on tefillin, the Shabbosim I kept and Yamim Tovim I celebrated and sanctified. All of us, at some point, will leave This World. But only some will leave with a chest full of merchandise, the good they accomplished while they were alive. And this good will be their eternity, the building blocks of their eternal reward.”

Mr. Silver chuckled.

“Eternity, boys… That’s a very, very long time.”

Mr. Silver grasped Moshe’s arm.

“Build your own chest, Moshe Eliyahu. Fill it with accomplishments. Don’t waste your life comparing yourself to others. We each are expected to leave This World with much accomplished. Each will be judged according to their abilities, not someone else’s.

“Don’t seek to live forever, like the king in our story. Seek to live. If you can do that, you’ll have nothing to fear at the end of the road. You’ll have done what Hashem wanted.”

Mr. Silver held the torn calendars close, countless Rosh Chodesh kabbalos, testifying to a life lived well, with thought, purpose, and accomplishment.

Finally, at that moment, Moshe was no longer afraid for his Zeidy. Zeidy was not the one who needed to fret, but rather the many who had not yet begun to work on living a true Torah life, where Hashem’s will is sought and when discovered, put into action.

May this story be a zechus for a great man, a tremendous talmid chacham who was niftar at the age of 48 after accomplishing so much and bringing so much Torah and clarity into the world, releasing a staggering amount of seforim that to this day continue to inspire and direct the Jewish people. L’illui nishmas Rav Aryeh Moshe Eliyahu Kaplan ztz”l.

THE END

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 957)