DAD, PRAYER, AND RECOLLECTIONS OF A FIVE YEAR OLD BOY
Dad, Me and Brother Ken circa 1949
I was 4, maybe 5. "I wish I had some money to spend." Dad looked at me and gave his little grin. "If you close your eyes and pray real hard for God to give you some, He will. When I tell you to open them, if your prayer was good enough, since you are a little boy, God will answer." We were in Jackson, Tennessee standing by the curb and corner of a street about 5 feet away from the corner drain. I remember Dad had a friend with him, probably some family member.
A year later we were in our little house on Meacham Lane in McCracken County, Kentucky. We were in our tiny living room and I was standing next to a small, dark magazine rack under the picture of Christ praying on the rock at Gethsemane. Dad was close by. Cowboys and Indians, those little plastic figurines that every boy just had to have, were on my mind and since I didn't have any at the time, I sighed out loud "I wish I had some cowboys and Indians to play with". Dad didn't miss a beat. "Do you remember last year when you wanted some money? What did you do"? My eyes grew big with the recollection of the memory. "I prayed".
And so I did once more, under the image of Christ. After what seemed an eternity I remember Dad's voice, "open your eyes". And there scattered across the magazines in the rack were a dozen or so of the very toys I prayed for. "If your heart is good when you pray, God will answer your prayers", he said.
I was too young for the message of selfish versus unselfish, greed versus charity, so Dad just wanted to get across that there was a God and He does answer prayers. And what could be more pure than a 5 year old child's heart?
In my teen years I reflected on this often and knew for certain that God didn't deliver the money and toys. Dad had put the money in the gutter for me to find, and my sweet Mother had had a stash of the little western figures stashed away somewhere and given them to Dad for me to find when I opened my eyes that day.
Now, as a senior in my (cough, cough) golden years there comes a deeper understanding of those events. God had indeed placed those things there for me to find. Dad was just the instrument of deliverance.
My Dad was born on February 19, 1914 in a slab cabin in Hardeman County, Tennessee. 110 years ago. I am thankful God placed him in our lives, just as I am our mother. His influence and goodness and wisdom is revealed in more clarity every day that allows me another sunrise. He instilled prayer and a relationship with God that has never really actually left me. Happy Birthday in Heaven Dad. Thank you for your faith and for loving us so much that you shared it with your sons.
February 19, 2024
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