-Barry, Mt Sterling, IL
It was in my preteen years when my father taught my brother and I one of many valuable lifelong lessons. Of course, at the time I had no idea what that lesson was, just that we had to do something neither of us cared to do.
My father was in the military, stationed with our family in Panama in Central America. Our home sat approximately half a mile from the Panama Canal, so watching the massive ships travel through the docks became a daily experience.
My brother (who is a year and a half older than me) would occasionally take our fishing poles and shimmy through a hole we had created under the fence line that surrounded the army base where we lived.
From there we would walk along a manmade dirt path next to a dirty stream, where poor Panamanian women would wash their clothes while their young children frolicked in the water, attempting to stay cool during the dry, hot season near the equator.
When the Panamanian kids saw us, they came running. They would follow us to our favorite fishing spot on a massive storm drain where water flowed into the ocean from the river and streams above. When my brother and I would experience a good day fishing, we would inevitably offer our catch to the younger boys and girls as they generally had very little to eat. They would take the fish and run back to their mothers to show them what was for dinner.
Walking back, huge smiles would fill the faces of the women giving thanks that on this day they would not go hungry. For my brother and I, it was a natural thing to do, although at the time, we didn’t understand the depth of the act. We were more interested in asking our dad for more bait to catch bigger fish.
One day, we were taught a subtle lesson from our father that would last a lifetime. He brought home an aluminum case with a tip on it. We helped him unload it and place it on two wooden horses, the kind used on construction work to hold a piece of plywood. When he opened the lid, we both took a step back.
The bottom of the aluminum case was caked with dried blood throughout. We inquired what it was and dad indicated it was the blood of a soldier who had been killed in Vietnam. The aluminum casing was actually a casket, used to transport the bodies, then transferred to regular caskets the families had arranged for.
Dad proceeded, “Take this hose and bleach and clean the blood from the casket!”
Although we rarely questioned our father about anything, we asked why us in this instance? His words taught us one of the most valuable lessons of our lives.
He said, “Boys, there was a man in this casket who most likely had a family, a mother and a father, and possibly a wife and children. He went to war for this country, fighting people he didn’t know, so you can crawl under fences and go fishing, go to school, play sports, and swim in the ocean on the weekends. You two are going to clean this out and we are going to place a small motor in it and raise shiners (fish to catch larger fish). Every time you two go fishing, I want you to think of the sacrifice this individual and many others gave to you.”
We stood in total silence! For the first time in my young life, I thought about service and how much it means in our daily lives.
I pray you never go to war, but for those that have, it has allowed all of us unimaginable freedoms that we take for granted every day. The lessons we can learn from a father’s teachings and love, can often be immeasurable.
No matter what stage we are in our lives, service to others should be a part of it. By doing so, we can find meaning beyond our wildest dreams.