“How can you take him back? How can you do this?” I said. “After all he has lost! That was OUR money Dad, it was our reputation, it was our family name that he dragged through that dirty pig pen!”

I looked through the door to see a huge table laden with a feast bigger than I had ever seen.

“Did you”¦ did you kill the calf we were fattening up, to sell? I can’t believe it. All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could have a little party with my friends! But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the best calf for him! And you invite all the neighbours. That calf cost money to feed Dad, lots of money.”

Dad looked at me earnestly. “My son, I love you.” He said. ” “You have been so good. You have stayed with me and worked hard. Youv’e always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and now is found.'”

Then my brother himself came to the door. He was wearing Dad’s best robe and he had a signet ring on his hand and clean, new sandals on his feet. I winced inwardly. “He’s back for five minutes and already he’s dressed better than me.” I thought. But as I looked into his face, I was shocked. He looked awful, really awful, gaunt and thin and pale and ill. All of the spark and brashness was gone. He was worried and anxious. Then he spoke.

“David. I am so sorry.
I don’t deserve to be your brother, or Dad’s son. I have told him to treat me like a slave, but he won’t listen. Talk to him! Reason with him! I don’t deserve all this. Its embarrassing me to be the centre of attention as if I’ve done something amazing, when I have failed you both, so badly!” his voice trailed off.

He looked and sounded as though he meant it. As though he meant every word. He was leaning against the doorframe. Suddenly he closed his eyes and his body slumped. I thought he was going to faint. He fell into me and I caught him and lifted him into my arms. He weighed hardly anything.

Suddenly I remembered I was the big brother. I was the wise one. I was the one that held the family together. I had to think quickly. I was about to offer to take him to the barn and lie him on some straw. But Dad interrupted my thoughts.

“David, take him to his room,” said Dad urgently. “Let him sleep.”

Reluctantly, I took him and lay him on his bed. I pulled the robe around him like blanket. It was the warmest robe in the whole house. Mum had made it for Dad and it still reminded me of her. I took off his sandals. They were way too big for him. Even his feet seemed skinny and old. Then I looked at the ring on his finger and my jealousy rose up once more. That ring had belonged to my Mother’s father. It was a family ring – a special one.

Suddenly Dad was behind me. As if he could hear what I was thinking, he spoke.

“David, everything in this house belongs to you. Everything. Look at your own robe, look at your own ring and your own sandals. You have always had everything you’ve needed right here.”

I turned to him. And whispering angrily I spat . “But I worked for it Dad, I never left you or squandered your money or debased myself with other women like HE has. I have kept myself clean and pure.

He, he comes home filthy and ragged and you treat him the SAME as me. That’s not fair!”

“Love isn’t fair.” Said Dad. “Blessing has no favourites. You seem to have forgotten what being in this family is all about. It’s not what you DO that matters to me.

Was Joe still my son when he left? Was he still my son in the brothel? Was he still my son in the pigsty?

Of course he was.

You are my son even if you had done all these things too.
My love for you isn’t because you work hard and get me good prices at the market or because you store our grain well. It’s because you’re my SON.

Now please, come downstairs and have some food with me. You must be starving after a long day.”

I smiled. I was defeated.
“Yes Dad, I am.” I said.
We went down arm in arm.
And that night as I enjoyed the best BBq’d beef I have ever tasted and endured the wet sloppy kisses of my aunts and cousins, those words pulsed around my veins.

I was loved. I was home.
I didn’t have to try anymore.