Sunday, June 19, 2011

My Dad-The Sequel

   My post this morning takes a hint from Chambers, but really has nothing to do with his intent. "Feed my sheep", from John 21, is the verse connected with the reading, and I will use those words to continue the story of my dad.

   Dad's job did keep our family fed, through the Depression and beyond. In a larger way, he helped to feed many more people around our area. You see, he was a produce buyer for a local chain store, and his job was to make sure that each store was stocked with the best and freshest produce around.

   Back in the days of this story, my mind puts this in the early 40s, Dad would get up early each morning to go to the local farmer's market to buy the fruits and vegetables that would go to the stores that day. He brought a truck home in the evening, so he could go directly to market when the farmers came in. This was way before sunrise.

   On this particular day, I got up and went out the door, probably on my way to school ( I walked to school, and back, several blocks, uphill both ways, barefoot and in the snow), when I noticed blood on the front sidewalk, steps and porch. Mom told me that Dad had been backing his truck out the driveway, with the front door open so he could see the way in the dark (no backup lights in those days), when he got too close to a tree and the door, with his hand holding it open, hit the tree. Knowing he had to get to market, he came back into the house, bandaged up his hand and went on to work, only later did he get it stitched up.

   That was his work ethic. He had a responsibility, people depended on him, and he was not going to let them down, regardless. A damaged hand and a little blood would not alter that.

I guess I really can relate this to our relationship with our heavenly Father. A little blood did not stop his plan either.

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