Fred's Important Lesson For Me

Fred's Important Lesson For Me

When I was a boy, I lived near Fred and Lucille. They were old. Very old. When I got big enough to push a lawnmower, Fred hired me to be his "yard man." I would go once a week and mow his grass, trim, and generally clean his yard. Being that this occurred during the summer, and I grew up in Texas, it was plenty hot. Fred would always have me take a break and invite me to sit on the porch to cool off and have some refreshments. It was during those breaks that Fred would regale me with stories. I delighted in hearing about his adventures in France as a World War I dough-boy. I felt that I was in the presence of some mystical greatness, because Fred had actually met and shook hands with General Black Jack Pershing. And so it was that during these sessions, I began to see Fred as an adopted grandfather. 

My relationship with Fred was strong enough, that even after I was in college and no longer his yard man, I was a frequent visitor. I guess I was just too hooked on those old stories to give them up. As I was visiting once, about this time of the year, I noticed Fred hadn't put up a Christmas tree. When I asked him why, he replied simply, "oh, that's for when you have kids around." Sensing that there was more to it than that, I went into action. I got with several of my friends, and my girlfriend, (who is now my wife.) We all pitched in a couple of dollars and bought a Christmas tree, decorations, and refreshments. The next Saturday night, we showed up at Fred and Lucille's house and had a surprise Christmas party. As suspected, Fred and Lucille were thrilled. We told them to just enjoy the tree and we would come back after Christmas and clean everything up for them. As we were leaving that night, Fred stopped me as I was walking out the door. He had a tear rolling down his cheek as he said, "boy, I ought to whip you." That was Fred's distinctive way of saying, "thank you." I left feeling good because I had done something for someone else- from the heart. But that wasn't the end. Fred was still going to teach me something.

A few days later, I got word that Fred wanted to see me. Dutifully, I went when called. I walked in and asked what he wanted with me. Fred slowly made his way over to his writing desk and took out his checkbook. He signed a blank check and gave me his instructions. "Since I can't go do this myself, I want you to go to the store and pick out a nice turkey and all the trimmings. I want to treat you and your family to Christmas dinner." I started to protest that he shouldn't do this, but then I saw something in his ninety-four year old eyes that said without words, "I still can give too, and I need to do this for you." As graciously as I could, I accepted his offer. This time, it was me leaving with a tear running down my cheek.

That was the best Christmas dinner I ever had. Not because the food was any better,but because it came with the last lesson Fred ever had a chance to teach me. That is this: no matter how old we get, we still have a need to be needed by others, and that includes being able to give sometimes. Thank you, Fred.