Master told me to write about snow. I don’t understand what he wants. Snow falls from the sky. When it melts it turns into water. It’s cold. It hurts your eyes when the wind blows it into your face. It’s white until someone walks on it. It only comes in winter and then only stays a few weeks before it melts. The snow seems to like the mountaintop since it stays on them for months and on the tallest it can stay all year.

I remember as a child I use to like making balls out of snow and then throwing then at the other boys. Except for making balls, snow seems to be mostly work. I have to shovel it off of the walkways and from the ramparts at the top of the tower. It also means that I have to chop more wood for the fire and spend more time drying clothes.

Last week the snow almost killed a young woman who was knocked down outside of our house. I wonder how many people die each winter because of the snow? I bet it hurts a lot to have the snow steal all of our heat – I know it hurts my fingers.

I’ve tried to look at snowflakes. They seem to be very detailed – with such fine detail I can’t even make out all the detail. I wonder how such detail can be built into each one.

Maybe that’s what Master wants me to see. There is so much detail in one snowflake – more detail than I can see, and more than I draw. If there is that much detail in a flake that is smaller than the tip of my little finger, how much more detail is there is everything else around me.

A snowflake is a reminder that life is detailed and I shouldn’t look over things too quickly.

Master asked me if I have learned anything about trust. I think he was talking about my adventure earlier this weeks when I had to wait. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it in terms of trust; I was just being obedient. Now that I think about it, maybe there is something behind the obedience.

When I think about being obedient, I can think of several different reasons that I’ve been obedient in my life. When my mom tells me to do something, I do it because I love her. I know that she asks me to do things because she needs me to. When she smiles and says, “Thank you,” it make me feel good inside. When my dad used to tell me to do things, I did them because I was afraid not to. Dad never said, “Thank you,” when I did what he asked; he just expected me to do it, but if I ever didn’t do what he said, he was quick to punish me. Sometimes I do what I’m told because I know in my heart that it is the right thing to do, like when the priest says that I’m not supposed to kill. It make sense to me to follow that rule.

None of those reasons really explain why I stood in the cold when Master told me to. I like him, but I don’t really love him; not like I do my mom. I’m not afraid of him; he’s never punished me and he’s really old. It also didn’t make a lot of sense to do what he said; why should I wait out in the cold. So there must be something else – maybe it’s trust.

I do trust Master. He seems very wise and always does what he says he will. He is also very smart and has had many exciting adventures. The couple of times I doubted him, it turned out that I was the one who was wrong. I guess I am obedient to Master because I trust him – he always seems to have my best interest in mind.

Most of the time I do what he says because what he says makes sense, but when he asks me to do something that makes no sense at all, then I have to trust that he knows more than I do. I wonder if that is what Master was hoping I had learned about trust. Well, if it’s not, I trust he will let me know that, too.

Dear Journal.

It sure feels strange writing that. Master said I should write like I was talking to my best friend. How sad is that? My best friend is a empty book!

Master said I should focus on the word “Duty” today as I write. I’m eleven years old – what do I know about duty? Obedience – now that’s something I know about. When my mom or master tell me to do something, I do it.

Duty. Is it like responsibility? I’m responsible for taking care of Master’s pet ferret, even if Master doesn’t remind me. Is it my duty to take care of Jim? It doesn’t seem like it, it’s just my job.

Is it my obligation? My mother signed a contract and now I’m obligated to stay here and work for Master for ten years. Is it my duty to not run away and break my mothers obligation?

Maybe it’s keeping safe the things that Master has put me in charge of. Keeping Jim safe. Being careful with Master’s treasures when I clean them. Is it my duty to be careful?

Maybe duty is more of an inside thing. Maybe duty is more about why I do things. An I obedient because I’m afraid of being punished, or because I feel a sense of duty? I think I’m obedient because it’s the right thing to do.

When I’m responsible for something, or something has been put in my care, I feel a need to honor that responsibility or charge. It is not because I have to, or because I fear the consequences, it’s because if I don’t, it will be my honor that suffers –  my own self-worth.

I have duties, but more importantly I feel a sense of duty to do the things that have been given to me to do. If I have a sense of duty to do something, then how can I complain about doing it? If my honor demands that I do something, how can I do anything less that put my whole heart into the task?

Do I feel like I have duties or just jobs? Is what I’m doing important or just something no one else want’s to do? Am I proud of my work or am I just trying to get by?

Good question, Master. I don’t know the answer yet.