The monk who sold his ferrari Reader for blinds

Chapter:1

The Wake-Up Call 



He collapsed right in the middle of a packed courtroom. He was 

one of this country's most distinguished trial lawyers. He was also 

a man who was as well known for the three-thousand-dollar Italian 

suits which draped his well-fed frame as for his remarkable string 

of legal victories. I simply stood there, paralyzed by the shock of 

what I had just witnessed. The great Julian Mantle had been 

reduced to a victim and was now squirming on the ground like a 

helpless infant, shaking and shivering and sweating like a maniac. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that point on. 

"My God, Julian's in trouble!" his paralegal screamed, emotionally 

offering us a blinding glimpse of the obvious. The judge looked 

panic-stricken and quickly muttered something into the private 

phone she had had installed in the event of an emergency. As for 

me, I could only stand there, dazed and confused. Please don't die, 

you old fool. Its too early for you to check out. You don't deserve 

to die like this. 

The bailiff, who earlier had looked as if he had been embalmed 

in his standing position, leapt into action and started to perform 

CPR on the fallen legal hero. The paralegal was at his side, her long blond curls dangling over Julian's ruby-red face, offering him 

soft words of comfort, words which he obviously could not hear. 

I had known Julian for seventeen years. We had first met when 

I was a young law student hired by one of his partners as a summer 

research intern. Back then, he'd had it all. He was a brilliant, hand-

some and fearless trial attorney with dreams of greatness. Julian 

was the firm's young star, the rain-maker in waiting. I can still 

remember walking by his regal corner office while I was working 

late one night and stealing a glimpse of the framed quotation 

perched on his massive oak desk. It was by Winston Churchill and 

it spoke volumes about the man that Julian was: 

Sure I am that this day we are masters of our fate, that the 

task which has been set before us is not above our strength; 

that its pangs and toils are not beyond my endurance. As 

long as we have faith in our own cause and an uncon-

querable will to win, victory will not be denied us. 

Julian also walked his talk. He was tough, hard-driving and 

willing to work eighteen-hour days for the success he believed was 

his destiny. I heard through the grapevine that his grandfather 

had been a prominent senator and his father a highly respected 

judge of the Federal Court. It was obvious that he came from 

money and that there were enormous expectations weighing on his 

Armani-clad shoulders. I'll admit one thing though: he ran his own 

race. He was determined to do things his own way — and he loved 

to put on a show. 

Julian's outrageous courtroom theatrics regularly made the front 

pages of the newspapers.