I grab my small notebook and a pencil. I give myself one more reassuring look in the mirror before making my way out the door. My determination to fulfill my mission keeps my feet moving. When I would get home, my mission would be complete; my question would be answered.

I bravely make my way deeper into the city. Passing a skate park, I see a group of people in their late teens. My feet urge me to keep moving, but I shake off the awkwardness and walk into the park. The strong smell of marijuana bombards my nose as I walk up to the teenagers. I lock eyes with a young man. His shaggy, blond hair covers his hazel eyes. A scantily dressed woman hangs off his arm. The man gives me an odd look, but smiles nonetheless.

"What's up? Are you lost?" he asks sweetly. His voice is not mocking, but rather he uses the tone that adults use when talking to small children. I hide my annoyance with a smile, knowing I was probably only a few years younger than him.

"Uh...no...I just wanted to ask a question. I'm trying to ask as many people as possible," I explain, preparing to write his answer down. The young man exchanges looks with his girlfriend, clearly amused.

"Okay, ask away," he chuckles.

"In your opinion, what is the meaning of life?" I question. I can tell by his expression that I caught him off guard, but he quickly adjusts.

"You want to know the meaning of life, huh? Well, that's simple: to have fun," he replies. To have fun is the meaning of life? Is it really that simple? I quickly write down his answer.

"Thank you," I say.

"No problem," the man answers, giving me a wink.

I move on to find the next person. Houses are turning into sky scrapers, more and more people are filling up the streets. The casually dressed people from the park are gradually replaced with intimidating men and women sporting suits. They move fast like there is never enough time. I call out to a few people, but my voice is lost in the noise of the city. From the sea of black and white, I see a well-dressed man. Just like the others, he wears an expensive suit. His brown hair is slicked back by greasy hair gel, and his dark eyes are locked onto some unseen future. I run towards him, fearing I might lose him.

"Wait, sir!" I cry out. The man finally turns around, glaring at me impatiently.

"What?" the man snaps.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask.

"Make it quick," he answers, looking at his watch.

"Um...what do you think the meaning of life is?" I question, my notebook open and my pencil ready to write. He gives me a look as if to say: "I don't have time for this." The man sighs deeply, and then says:

"Our purpose is to be successful. It's that simple. Now, if you'll excuse me, you're hindering my purpose," he growls. The businessman walks away before I can apologize. I write down "to be successful," feeling a little accomplished for having acquired another answer.

I quickly leave the busy part of the city, not wanting to bother another business man or woman. Eventually, I find myself in another park, but this time, it is full of dogs instead of skateboarders. Looking around, I see a man sitting on a bench, his right hand holding several dog leashes while his left hand casually texts on his phone. His shaggy, brown hair peeks out from under his purple beanie. The man's plaid shirt clashes perfectly with his ripped skinny jeans. Feeling less intimidated, I walk up to him.

"Excuse me, sir, can I ask you a question?" I ask, tapping lightly on his shoulder. He looks up from his phone screen to give me a look that says, "Why are you talking to me?"

"What?" he asks. The look he gives me murders any confidence I had acquired.

"Can...I ask you a question?" I repeat.

"Sure..?" he answers, sounding like he was forced to say yes.

"Okay...um...in your opinion...what is the meaning of life?" I ask, rushing the actual question part. I see the man's face soften, clearly pleased to express his opinions. He puffs out his chest proudly, the unfriendly atmosphere gone.

"There is no meaning. We have no purpose," he answers, his voice is cheerful despite his words. My smile drops at his answer. The man notices my change in expression and sets down his phone to put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry! You have to find your purpose for yourself!"

"Uh...yeah, thank you. I feel much better," I say, forcing a smile.

"Great!" the man replies, nodding his head in self-accomplishment.

We say our goodbyes, and I continue my search for answers. Even though the man sounded positive that his answer was the right one, something inside urged me to keep asking. So, I march down a trail to look for someone else to ask. Walking further down the path, I see a woman give a homeless man a handful of money. She wears a modest sundress the color of summertime sunflowers. Her brown hair cascades down her back like a waterfall.

"Miss, do you have a moment?" I ask, running to catch up to her. She turns to look at me, her surprise turning into a smile.

"Yes, what is it?" She asks politely. I feel relief as she gazes warmly at me.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a question," I say.

"Go ahead," the woman smiles.

"What is the meaning of life?" I ask, her friendly attitude filling me with confidence. The woman's eyes lights up with surprise.

"Wow...that's a tough question... Let me think for a moment," she answers, then after a few minutes, says: "Well...I think we're here to basically be good people. We were put on this earth to help our fellow man." At first, her words sound unsure, but quickly gain confidence nearing the end. I write down my fourth answer. Is this the right answer? Will I even know when I find it?

"Thank you," I nod gratefully.

"Your welcome, I hope I helped," the woman answers.

"You did," I respond.

I turn away from the kind woman, quickly making my way out of the park. I look down at the answers on my notebook, none of them standing out like I thought they would. Some of them seemed almost right, but not quite there. I feel hopelessness start to creep in, eating away at my drive to keep searching. I look around to see the sun beginning to set. It casts long shadows on the cool pavement. My time has run out. I have to go home without having my question answered.

I drag my feet in the direction of home. Maybe the answer is to be a good person... I mean, I know I should help my fellow man. But no matter how hard I try to be a good person, there will always be someone who thinks otherwise. I pass the place where I met the man with the dogs, his seat left abandoned. Could life really have no meaning? Do I really have no purpose? That's so...sad. No! There has to be more to life! Looking up, I find myself in the busy city. The crowded streets remind me of my encounter with the business man. Is my purpose to be successful? Is being successful having a big house or making lots of money? Would I be happy if I had those things? I already have a decent sized house, and my job keeps me financially stable; yet I am still searching. I walk past the skate park without giving it a second look. It's kind of funny to think that the hardest question would have such a simple answer. However, life is about more than just having fun. I see my house in the distance, but it offers me no comfort. I look down at my notebook one more time, begging it to tell me which answer was right. In doing so, I fail to see the woman in front of me.

We collide; my notebook flying out of my hands. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" I frantically apologize.

"I'm fine, no harm done," the woman chuckles, getting up. Noticing my notebook on the ground, she picks it up. Her brown eyes inevitably scan the writing.

"I was asking some people what they think the meaning of life is," I explain before she opens her mouth to ask. An expression of guilt is evident on her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy..." the woman apologizes.

"Don't be sorry. I was going to ask you anyways," I reply, trying to fix the awkward situation. I'm shocked to find the woman unsurprised at all by my question. It's like she has answered this time and time again.

"My meaning, my purpose in life, is Jesus. He gave up His life for me and now I am giving up my life for Him. But this is your decision. I don't want to force you to believe anything," she answers effortlessly.

"I...found it. I finally found it," I mumble, stunned. The woman gives me a confused look.

"Found what?" she asks.

"I found my purpose, my meaning in life," I state. I cross out the other answers and write down the new answer, the right answer. I finally feel the feeling I've been searching for. I smile. My purpose is Jesus.