The Lost Choice

Read The Lost Choice Online

Authors: Andy Andrews

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PRAISE FOR
The Lost Choice

“Bottom line, I'm a better person for having experienced Andy Andrews' incredible storytelling talent. For the special people in your life, there could be no better gift.”

—BILL AMES, Executive, General Motors

“The story of
The Lost Choice
is the best I've read in years, but the book's message will land it on the desks of the world's business leaders. This is a masterpiece—a thrilling mystery that can change your life. Do yourself a huge favor and read this book. I loved it.”

—DON BRINDLEY, Former President, Merrill Lynch Insurance

“Andy Andrews weaves the golden threads of love, truth, and wisdom into a brilliant tapestry of a story.”

—DELILAH, Nighttime Radio Personality


The Lost Choice
is a spectacular novel that will change your business . . . and your life. Og Mandino's passion was storytelling that made a difference. He has passed the baton to Andy Andrews and the tradition continues!”

—TODD DUNCAN, Author of
High Trust Selling
&
Killing the Sale


The Lost Choice
is a masterpiece of ideas and emotions—a magnificent and bold achievement that will be an inspiration to all who read it.”

—DEBBIE ELLIOTT, National Public Radio

“Andy Andrews knows about success—and in
The Lost Choice
he deftly, yet subtly delivers a powerful message of success to the reader. A lesson for life.”

—GENERAL ROBERT H. “DOC” FOGLESONG, USAF

“A true treasure—another inspiring tale from one of this century's greatest storytellers.”

—SCOTT JEFFREY, Author of
Journey to the Impossible


The Lost Choice
is told so simply by author Andy Andrews. The special effect of this book is pure genius. It is a story for generations.”

—JOSEPH G. LAKE, Cofounder, Children's Miracle Network


The Lost Choice
will impact the personal and financial lives of every business person who reads it. I have personally made Andy Andrews' books required reading for everyone in our company. It is a book you definitely need to pass on to your friends.”

—JIM PACE, President and CEO, Group VI Corporation

“Andy Andrews has done it yet again! Just like with
The Traveler's Gift
he had me from the first page! Andy is a man with a message you must hear and apply to your life . . .Awesome!!!!”

—DAVE RAMSEY, Radio Host and Author of the
New York Times
best-seller
The Total Money Makeover

“You think there are no second chances in life? Andy Andrews will prove you wrong. Trust me—read this book.
The Lost Choice
blew me away.”

—TODD RAINSBERGER, Producer, ESPN

“Andy Andrews is a new breed of novelist—one who makes ‘chronological discoveries' an art form. This is a beautiful story that will keep you guessing until the last page.”

—JOHN R. SCHNEIDER, Actor and Recording Artist

“Andy Andrews has become one of the largest influences in my life. If I could choose one gift to give every person with whom I cross paths, it would be this book.”

—CHRIS SMITH, Executive, Coca-Cola Enterprises


The Lost Choice
represents the definition of a class act. As Andy's latest triumph, the book owes both its significance and success to the way it seamlessly unites critical life elements.”

—ZACHARY SMITH, President, Delphian Internet

“Once again Andy Andrews has created a masterpiece.
The Lost Choice
confirms the promise passed from generation to generation, that through our choices we, too, can attain greatness and make our mark in history.”

—DEANNIA C. SMITH, English Teacher,
Oxford High School, Oxford, Alabama

“Another masterpiece by Andy Andrews with a dramatic storyline, great writing, historical value, a plot that captivates our minds and provides an escape from the present by sending us on another exhilarating adventure. As a congressman, my time is very limited.
The Lost Choice
joins
The Traveler's Gift
as time well spent.”

—CONGRESSMAN ZACH WAMP, Tennessee,Third Congressional District

“I am Andy's #1 fan. I have recommended Andy's book to every person in our organization. Andy's values of leadership, collaboration, and responsibility are reflected in our company culture.”

—MARK WILLIS, President, Keller Williams Realty International

THE LOST
CHOICE

A LEGEND
of
PERSONAL DISCOVERY

ANDY
ANDREWS

CONTACT ANDY

Book Andy for your corporate event:
(800) 726-ANDY (2639)

Learn more at
www.AndyAndrews.com

Copyright © 2004 by Andy Andrews

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means— electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other— except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville,Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Andrews,Andy, 1959–
The lost choice : a legend of personal discovery / Andy Andrews.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0-7852-6139-7 (hardcover)
1. Conduct of life. 2. Success. I. Title.
BJ1597.A52 2004
813'.54—dc22

2004003469

Printed in the United States of America

04 05 06 07 08 QWM 5 4 3 2 1

Dedicated to Sandra K. Dorff, Paula Tebbe,
and Susie White—three ladies whose choices have
had a profound effect on my family and me.
Thanks, SB, PC, and Woowie!

No individual has any right to come into this world and go out of it without leaving behind him distinct and legitimate reasons for having passed through it.

—George Washington Carver

Contents

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Bibliography

PROLOGUE

SINAI PENINSULA—AD 281

KASIMIR SHIELDED HIS EYES WITH BOTH HANDS as he peered intently into the sun's last rays. Another tear made a track through the dust on his browned face and fell from his chin. His age was eleven summers now, almost a man, and his father's falcon was missing.

Alem, his father, had often made it clear that he was not yet ready to command the valuable huntress. The falcon had been a gift from a prince, given to Alem as a sign of respect. Her name was Skei—a word the prince had told them meant “swift.” She was as tall as Kasimir's arm was long, and her talons completely enveloped the leather covering on his skinny shoulder where she sometimes sat as Kasimir rode his father's camel. Skei was snow white with jet-black slashes in her feathers, and she wore a hood that matched the jesses, long hide straps, on her legs.

Intending to prove his resourcefulness and maturity, the boy had impulsively released the bird earlier in the day when the shadows were small. Food was scarce, and the rabbit he had glimpsed would have made an excellent meal. Unfortunately, the beautiful falcon had not seen fit to return with the rabbit or any rabbit or to return at all for that matter. “Kasi!” The boy cringed at the sound of his father's voice. It was not an unkind voice for he was not an unkind man. It was, however, the voice of a man who demanded honesty. And Kasimir would be honest with him now. “Kasi!” Alem called again.

“Coming, Father!”

THE DESERT GLOWED WITH THE APPROACHING DUSK as the velvet sand returned its heat to the evening sky. For three days the Bedouins had rested at Elim. Fewer than fivescore—one hundred—men,women, and children comprised this nomadic group. Generally wandering an area between the Springs of Marah and the mountain they called Jabal al Lawz, these people did not count Alem and his son as part of their tribe. Neither, however, did they consider them intruders. Alem and Kasi had come and gone several times over the last four summers, each arrival bringing news of interest from Egypt, Midian, even Rome!

Their story was known to all. Alem's wife had died when Kasi was still a baby. He never took another woman, choosing instead to care for his boy alone and live a life “wandering among the wanderers.” It was incredibly dangerous. There were slave traders, thieves, and, of course, the desert itself. Yet season after season the father and son traveled together, sometimes with one tribe or another, but most often alone.

Alem was regarded as very unique among the desert people, for two reasons. One, he had a gift of clarity. Many said that he could see through a head directly into a heart. Alem was not a prophet or a religious leader and almost never addressed a gathering, but was often sought as a companion by the fire or as the caravan moved across the sand. He spoke directly, but with compassion, discerning one's past with an eye to guiding the future. Alem was an oracle of truth.

Second, it was widely known that Alem had a possession. Beyond one's camel, robes, and perhaps a weapon such as a sword or even a falcon or sight hound, this was almost unheard of. But Alem had one. A possession. And no one had any idea what it was.

ALEM'S POSSESSION WAS ROLLED THICKLY IN BURGUNDY linen and bound with cord cut from a black burnoose. A short leather strap wound tightly around Alem's left shoulder and neck, allowing the object to settle into the folds of his robe. Thus, it was carried next to his chest, where his eyes could watch the possession and his arms could protect it. Always and all the time.

Alem slept, ate, and traveled with the possession awkwardly attached to him. It was of an indeterminate size due to the bulky cloth in which it was wrapped, but “a bit smaller than the foot of a camel” had been accepted as the general dimension by those who engaged in endless discussions about this curiosity. It was whispered that even Kasimir, his boy, had never seen the item.

Kasi found his father seated alone, cross-legged beside a small fire, one of many burning throughout the palms. “Ahh! There you are,my son,”Alem said as the boy entered the firelight.

“Father, I have something to tell you,” he began right away.

“And I am anxious to hear your news,”Alem said with a smile. “But first, be seated and partake of today's abundance, for soon today will be gone. Eat!”

“Father, what I have to say—”

“Will wait until you have eaten. Sit, my son.” He gestured toward the ground to his right and as Kasi sat beside him, Alem continued. “We will depart this evening. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then eat.” Alem pulled a stick from over the fire and removed the leg of what appeared to be a large roasted hare. He brushed a cinder from the meat with his free hand, passed it to Kasi, and said,“A small band of us—perhaps half a score—will move north when the fires are low. Will you halter Biba when you are through here? She is with the group of camels under the fig tree.”

“As you wish, Father. But first, I must tell you—”

“Kasi!”

“Yes, Father?”

“Eat.”

“Yes, Father.”

Kasimir took a big bite and chewed thoughtfully as he studied the man everyone said he so closely resembled. His father's black hair barely showed around the edges of what was once a white burnoose. His skin was dark, burned to an even shade by the sun and the wind, and it contrasted sharply with his even, white teeth. His nose was long and straight, perfect except for the small scar running across the bridge, and his chin was strong. One could easily see Alem's chin, for his beard had never grown. More stubble than beard, the whiskers were short and thinly spaced.

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