And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child \u2026 <\/i><\/p>\n
\u2014Matt. 10:21<\/i><\/p>\n
1622<\/b> Success In Hogs Not Son<\/b><\/p>\n
Some years ago at a fair in Dallas, Texas, an interesting and yet tragic exhibition attracted many: a sallow-faced, emaciated boy was displaying a prize-winning hog. The boy seemed intent on seeing how many cigarettes he could smoke in the shortest period of time. The owner of the prize-winning hog was the father of the boy. He was a success at raising hogs, but a dismal failure at raising a son! <\/p>\n
1623<\/b> Kill A Daughter For Insurance<\/b><\/p>\n
In Aomori, Japan, a bankrupt businessman hired two men to run down his nine-year-old daughter with a car in order that he might be able to collect $70,000 in insurance. The child was hit from behind and killed, while walking with her father and her seven-year-old sister. <\/p>\n
1624<\/b> Three Hairs And Lost Influence<\/b><\/p>\n
A strange dog came to a preacher\u2019s house, and his three sons soon became quite fond of it. It so happened that there were three white hairs in the animal\u2019s tail. One day an advertisement was seen in the newspaper about a lost dog which fitted that description perfectly. \u201cIn the presence of my three boys,\u201d said the minister, \u201cwe carefully separated the three white hairs and removed them.\u201d The real owner discovered where the straying canine had found a home and came to claim him. The dog showed every sign of recognition, so the man was ready to take him away. <\/p>\n
Quickly the minister spoke up, \u201cDidn\u2019t you say the dog would be known by three white hairs in its tail?\u201d The owner, unable to find the identifying feature, was forced to leave. The minister said later, \u201cwe kept the dog, but I lost my three boys for Christ.\u201d His sons no longer had confidence in what their father professed. He hadn\u2019t practiced what he preached. <\/p>\n
\u2014Our Daily Bread<\/i><\/p>\n
1625<\/b> Run Away, Boy! <\/b><\/p>\n
Doctor Potter tells the story of a young man who stood at the bar of a court of justice to be sentenced for forgery. The judge had known him from a child, for his father had been a famous legal light and his work on the Law of Trusts was the most exhaustive work on the subject in existence. \u201cDo you remember your father?\u201d asked the judge sternly, \u201cthat father whom you have disgraced?\u201d<\/p>\n
The prisoner answered: \u201cI remember him perfectly. When I went to him for advice or companionship, he would look up from his book on the Law of Trusts, and say, \u2019Run away, boy, I am busy. \u2019 My father finished his book, and here I am.\u201d The great lawyer had neglected his own trust, with awful results. <\/p>\n
\u2014T. De Witt Talmadge<\/p>\n
1626<\/b> Go Back! You\u2019re Too Young<\/b><\/p>\n
My father was the senior elder in our church for many years. When I was a boy, eleven years of age, an evangelist held a series of meetings in our church. One night he asked every Christian to come forward and also asked those who desired to confess Christ to come with them. My father, of course, went up, and, as I felt the call of God, I followed after him. <\/p>\n
Just as he reached the front he turned around, and seeing me, said, \u201cJohnnie, you go back; you are too young.\u201d I obeyed him, as I had been taught to do, and at thirty-three I came again, but I did not know what I was coming for as clearly at thirty-three as I did at eleven. The church lost twenty-two years of service, while I lost twenty-two years of growth because my own father, an officer in the church, had said, \u201cGo back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014Wilbur E. Nelson<\/p>\n
1627<\/b> At Least An \u201cOh!\u201d<\/b><\/p>\n
An eminent clergyman sat in his study, busily engaged in preparing his Sunday sermon, when his little boy toddled into the room, and holding up his pinched finger, said, with an expression of suffering, \u201cLook, Pa, how I hurt it!\u201d<\/p>\n
The father, interrupted in the middle of a sentence, glanced hastily at him, and with the slightest tone of impatience, said, \u201cI can\u2019t help it, sonny.\u201d The little fellow\u2019s eyes grew bigger, and as he turned to go out, he said in a low voice, \u201cYes, you could; you might have said, \u201cOh!\u201d\u201c<\/p>\n
\u2014Selected<\/p>\n
1628<\/b> Reverse Roles Sunday Morning<\/b><\/p>\n
A little girl, with shining eyes and little face aglow, said, \u201cDaddy, it is almost time for Sunday school. Let\u2019s go! They teach us there of Jesus\u2019 love, and how He died that we might all have everlasting life by trusting in Him!\u201d \u201cOh! no,\u201d said Daddy, \u201cnot today. I have worked so hard all the week. I am going to the woods, and to the creek. There I can relax and rest. I must have one day to rest, and fishing is fine, they say. So run along. Don\u2019t bother me. We\u2019ll go to church some other day!\u201d<\/p>\n
Months and years have passed, but Daddy hears that plea no more: \u201cLet\u2019s go to Sunday school!\u201d Those childish years are over and when Daddy is growing old, when life is almost through, he finds time to go to church. But what does daughter do? She says, \u201cOh, Daddy, not today. I stayed up almost all last night, and I\u2019ve got to get some sleep!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014The Bible Friend<\/i><\/p>\n
1629<\/b> Father\u2019s Day Phone Calls<\/b><\/p>\n
The Illinois Bell Telephone Co. reports that the volume of long-distance calls made on Father\u2019s Day is growing faster than the number on Mother\u2019s Day. The company apologized for the delay in compiling the statistics, but explained that extra billing of calls to fathers slowed things down. Most of them were \u201ccollect.\u201d<\/p>\n
FATHER\u2019S LOVE<\/p>\n
1630<\/b> \u201cThe Day We Visited Our Son\u2019s Tomb\u201d<\/b><\/p>\n
O New York, O Brooklyn, O Cypress Hills! <\/p>\n
At last we found the tomb of our son! <\/p>\n
Amidst heavy rains and spring chills, <\/p>\n
We can\u2019t help but let our tears run. <\/p>\n
Today we come from thousands of miles away, <\/p>\n
With trembling hands, I plant chrysanthemums on the soil;<\/p>\n
While your Ma, brother, and sisters sobbingly pray, <\/p>\n
I recall how your childhood days were spoiled. <\/p>\n
We all missed you for more than one-and-a-half years, <\/p>\n
Each day I think of you twenty-odd times;<\/p>\n
Countless occasions did I secretly shed tears, <\/p>\n
Terribly missed is when morning sun climbs! <\/p>\n
Ah graveyards, more graveyards we come across! <\/p>\n
They are old ages, ancients, and horrors;<\/p>\n
You are so young, promising, and robust, <\/p>\n
Why select all these as your neighbors? <\/p>\n
Day and night you are lying here as an alien soul. <\/p>\n
By great continents and oceans we are far segregated;<\/p>\n
When is the day your ashes we may retrieve and haul<\/p>\n
Back to Loyola where your new tomb has been erected? <\/p>\n
\u2014C. B. Lim<\/p>\n
NOTE: Mr. C. B. Lim is a close friend of the author. His son was killed in a taxi accident in New York City while journeying from the Philippines to Canada. <\/p>\n
1631<\/b> It\u2019s A Girl! Out Goes $1 Million<\/b><\/p>\n
Sir John Waller would have been a million dollars richer if his wife had given birth to a son instead of a daughter. <\/p>\n
\u201cBut she is the prettiest baby I have ever seen. She is wonderful,\u201d Waller crooned as he cradled the baby in his arms at Queen Charlotte\u2019s Hospital in West London. <\/p>\n
And Lady Waller proudly declared: \u201cShe is perfect. I could not care less about the inheritance.\u201d<\/p>\n
The million dollars\u2014actually 500,000 pounds or $1,050,000\u2014go to Waller as soon as he produces a male heir. <\/p>\n
1632<\/b> Long Distance Reunions<\/b><\/p>\n
The Manx poet T. E. Brown writes of a lighthouse off the Calf of Man. From the shore of the Calf a long slope runs off to the crest of the island. Near the top of the slope are the cottages inhabited by the families of the lighthouse keepers, their doors opening directly toward the lighthouse, which is separated from the mainland by a stretch of stormy sea. For months at a time the keepers cannot visit their families; but on a clear Sabbath, when the sun shines brightly, they solace themselves by looking through a powerful telescope at their wives and children gathered in front of the cottage doors. <\/p>\n
\u2014C. E. Macartney<\/p>\n
1633<\/b> An Old Soldier\u2019s Prayer<\/b><\/p>\n
\u201cBuild me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory. <\/p>\n
\u201cBuild me a son whose wishes will not take the place of deeds; a son who will know Thee \u2026 and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge. <\/p>\n
\u201cBuild me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high, a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past. <\/p>\n
\u201cAnd after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor, so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom and the meekness of true strength. <\/p>\n
\u201cThen I, his father, will dare to whisper, \u201cI have not lived in vain.\u201d\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014Gen. Douglas A. MacArthur<\/p>\n
1634<\/b> Son Gets An Hour A Day<\/b><\/p>\n
A young successful attorney said:<\/p>\n
\u201cThe greatest gift I ever received was a gift I got one Christmas when my dad gave me a small box. Inside was a note saying, \u201cSon, this year I will give you 365 hours, an hour every day after dinner. It\u2019s yours. We\u2019ll talk about what you want to talk about, we\u2019ll go where you want to go, play what you want to play. It will be your hour!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy dad not only kept his promise,\u201d he said, \u201cbut every year he renewed it\u2014and it\u2019s the greatest gift I ever had in my life. I am the result of his time.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2014Moody Monthly<\/i><\/p>\n
1635<\/b> Father\u2019s Day Flower<\/b><\/p>\n
The official flower on Father\u2019s Day is the dandelion, because the more it is trampled upon, the better it grows. <\/p>\n
1636<\/b> A Cross-Country Trip<\/b><\/p>\n
It is a significant fact that John Muir one of America\u2019s greatest naturalists, during the formative period of his life was taken by his father across the American continent. It took the family a year to make the journey. As each sunset and sunrise glorified the skies this old Scotch father would take his bairns out and show them the beautiful skies and tell them that these surely were the robes of God. <\/p>\n
Who knows but the sense of reverence instilled in that boy-heart, as he lived in the out-of-doors for a year, made him America\u2019s greatest naturalists and bred in his little soul a love for nature which turned the curves of his life forever, leading to the hills, the glacial meadows and the ice-bound bays of Alaska? <\/p>\n
1637<\/b> Steady, My Boy, Steady! <\/b><\/p>\n
It happened some years ago that a most urgent and unusual invitation came to me to visit a military academy, in which the students had mutinied, in the hope that possibly I might be of service to the situation. The students had struck in everything: lessons, study hours, drill. The principal handed me a large number of telegrams which had come from the parents who had been wired regarding the situation. These messages were telescoped through which one could look into the various kinds of boys\u2019 homes and the parental relationships connected with them. <\/p>\n
One father wired his son, \u201cI expect you to obey.\u201d Another said, \u201cIf you are expelled from school, you needn\u2019t come home.\u201d Still another, \u201cI\u2019ll send you to an insane asylum if you are sent home.\u201d Another said, \u201cI\u2019ll cut you off without a shilling if you disgrace the family.\u201d But the best message was couched in these laconic words: \u201cSteady, my boy, steady! Father.\u201d<\/p>\n
There was a man who believed in his boy and probably there is no greater influence upon a boy than a father who respects the spirit of his boy and treats him like a man. <\/p>\n
\u2014Selected<\/p>\n
1638<\/b> Penny\u2019s Father Didn\u2019t Laugh<\/b><\/p>\n
If it had not been for a crooked groceryman, J. C. Penney might have become the owner of a grocery store rather than the owner of a dry goods chain and the nation\u2019s leading merchandiser. <\/p>\n
When he was a teenager, Jim worked for a groceryman in Hamilton, Missouri. He liked the work and had plans to make a career of it. One night he came home and proudly told his family about his \u201cfoxy\u201d employer. The grocer had a practice of mixing low quality coffee with the expensive brand and thus increasing his profit. Jim laughed as he told the story at the supper table. <\/p>\n
His father didn\u2019t see anything funny about the practice. \u201cTell me,\u201d he said, \u201cif the grocer found someone palming off an inferior article on him for the price of the best, do you think he would think they were just being foxy, and laugh about it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jim could see his father was disappointed in him. \u201cI guess not,\u201d he replied. \u201cI guess I just didn\u2019t think about it that way.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jim\u2019s father instructed him to go to the grocer the next day and collect whatever money due him and tell the grocer he wouldn\u2019t be working for him any longer. Jobs were not plentiful in Hamilton, but Mr. Penney would rather his son be unemployed than be associated with a crooked businessman. <\/p>\n
J. C. Penney came that close to becoming a grocer. <\/p>\n
1639<\/b> Father\u2019s Gift <\/b><\/p>\n
To you, O son of mine, I cannot give<\/p>\n
A vast estate of wide and fertile lands; <\/p>\n
But I can keep for you, the whilst I live, <\/p>\n
Unstained hands. <\/p>\n
I have no blazoned scutcheon that insures<\/p>\n
Your path to eminence and worldly fame;<\/p>\n
But longer than empty heraldry endures<\/p>\n
A blameless name. <\/p>\n
I have no treasure chest of gold refined, <\/p>\n
No hoarded wealth of clinking, glittering pelf;<\/p>\n
I give to you my hand, and heart, and mind\u2014<\/p>\n
All of myself. <\/p>\n
I can exert no mighty influence<\/p>\n
To make a place for you in men\u2019s affairs;<\/p>\n
But lift to God in secret audience<\/p>\n
Unceasing prayers. <\/p>\n
I cannot, though I would, be always near <\/p>\n
To guard your steps with the parental rod;<\/p>\n
I trust your soul to Him who holds you dear, <\/p>\n
Your father\u2019s God. <\/p>\n
\u2014Merrill C. Tenney<\/p>\n
See also:<\/b> Mother ; Parental Responsibility. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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