The Candlestick

My dad loved to make things out of wood and he had a particular passion for carving. His workshop was in the basement of our house it was there that he went to escape the stress and realities of life and lose himself making something beautiful. God gave dad the incredible gift of being able to look at a piece of wood and see a beyond what it plainly was to all the things it had the possibility of becoming. My eyes were opened to this truth as I was dusting this morning and came to the candlestick that we found in his workshop years after he passed in a pile of unfinished projects. As I picked it up and held it I thought about how long it must have taken dad to carve it. And then it dawned on me for the first time, dad looked at people the same way he looked at wood; he always looked beyond the obvious to see the potential buried beneath the surface.

Typically my mind is never idle, however this revelation was the cause of my mind being even busier than usual today. As I went about my household chores I thought about my both my parents and realized that it was not just dad that saw things and people from this perspective, but mom did as well. In our home it was not decided in advance what a person would be like based on their color, nationality, their financial status, whether they were a democrat or republican. My parents showed us if someone were down on their luck and were without a job or had no home, or were hungry we were no better or deserving than they were. I was raised in a middle class family and yet if we dared complain about lacking something we thought we needed, we were quickly reminded that we had a safe home, a bed, clothes, all the food we wanted to eat and most important of all, a mom and dad that loved us.

I suppose I should be embarrassed to admit that I had not had this epiphany sooner. So many things our parents did to insure morals and values would become a part of who we would be as adults, were done quietly and without notice or recognition. I have many treasures in my home from dad’s unfinished project pile, which Jackie brought home and finished. To me that makes them even more precious because while they never met one another, the two most important men in my life each had a hand in making them.

Until we meet here again, I pray God bless you and keep your loved ones safe.