I did everything he asked of me. Modest in all my dealings, I killed no-one slept with no man’s wife, spoke truth and thought on heaven. Then he said “Sell everything you have and give it to the poor.” A blow across the face could not have hurt me more. My life of cautious virtue sacrificed ? It would be self-murder. I turned my back on him. Years later, comfortless, my good deeds sour on my tongue, I sold up did as he had asked and went in search of him. I found nothing but a tomb and women weeping.