ONE

A few years ago, Starbucks released a book titled "FIVE." The theme: Where will you be in 5 years?
Filled with questions and quotes, it is just the type of book that is right up my alley. Inspirational. Motivational. I am in love with it, and anytime I need a boost, I pick it up.


A few years later, I was in Seattle.  I was sitting inside a Starbucks with a good friend, enjoying a holiday beverage I'm sure, looking out at the stunning view of Puget sound and the Olympic Mountains. I noticed...Starbucks had come out with a second book, this time titled "ONE." After immediately purchasing it, one of the first few pages had this story that nearly brought tears to my eyes :-) Enjoy.


Seattle is a beautiful place, but in the 1980s I was living in a beat-up beach cabin. I had an old TV, a lumpy futon, and one of those white plastic Princess Phones. I was basically broke, but my noisy old refrigerator was stuffed with fresh vegetables, eggs, fruit, beer and frozen pizza...and I had a spectacular view of Puget Sound, the Olympic Mountains and the Seattle skyline.

That year, I volunteered to host a college exchange student from Guinea-Bissau, Africa. When I picked him up at the airport, Salvatore was easy to spot. He was 23 tall and regal-looking, with a huge smile and lustrous blue-black skin. He had lived his entire life as a barefoot fisherman in a small native village located on a big river deep in the jungle of Guinea-Bissau...and now his village had raised the money to send him to study U.S. Fisheries on their behalf. He had travelled directly from his African village to Seattle, and I could see he was astonished at what he saw as we drove through the beautiful city.

When we arrived at my raggedy cabin, I worried that Salvatore might be disappointed with his new accommodations. He seemed somber as I showed him the little bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, TV and telephone. What was Salvatore thinking? I decided to take him out on the little deck to try to impress him with the view. The snow-clad mountains were spread out against the sky that day, and one of Seattle's majestic white ferries was gliding across the sparkling waters of Puget Sound. We stood there silently for awhile, and then Salvatore turned to me with his brow deeply knit in thought.

"You are a king?" he asked. "No," I laughed "I'm just an everyday person like you." Salvatore was silent for a moment , and then he turned again and said quite clearly and emphatically, "You are a King." And it suddenly dawned on me that he was right. All these years I had been a king and not known it.

Story by Scott Sabol, Ph.D.