One Last Conversation

 

So many evenings I sat on my grandfather’s veranda, listening to him talk as he shared his simple, straightforward philosophies: Worship God. Work hard. Act with courtesy and integrity. Be grateful for whatever you already have.

I listened. I learned. But I was a child. I knew nothing about life and how badly it often treated so many fine people––and how character-deficient the rest of us were whenever we added to their burdens.

Today I would give anything I have to be granted one more hour in my grandfather’s presence and to ask him man-to-man to weigh in on humanity’s most perplexing issues.

Were his simple occupations of farming and cattle raising, I wonder, satisfying to him? Were they enough? Or did he sometimes yearn for more? Did anything about his brief existence on earth bring him happiness? Or did he sometimes privately question God’s plan, which seemed to send him far more than his fair share of obstacles?

I think I already know what a few of his responses would be. Life for Melbourne Folkes held no prospects of choice or opportunity. He got whatever he got. All he could do was make certain that his grandson was instilled with the values he held dear (faith, hope and charity) and that this little boy might somehow put them to good use.

I think he would heartily approve of the scholarships now awarded through our Foundation. I think he would also be a trifle embarrassed that I named it after him!

I think he would be touched to learn how important God has always been in my everyday life and how much He impacts everything I do. I also think he would be impressed by the financial success of my corporation and by the impeccable standards we sustain on a day-to-day basis.

I think he would be humbled (and a little taken aback) to hear how much I still admire and revere him. So I fantasize about being able to express face-to-face how vital was his role in who I became. My work ethic, drive, energy and self-discipline, my fairness and attention to detail, my excellent mental/physical health and generally calm demeanor––all are due in some part to the lessons Melbourne Folkes taught me, either by instruction or by example. How I would love to be back on that veranda once more, extending my hand between our chairs to grasp his tightly and to express my heartfelt praise and everlasting gratitude.

 

 

 


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