Life Is an Adventure
Daniel Schantz
Moberly, Missouri
The hardest thing about being a pastor's kid was moving all the time— seven times in 10 years. I hated it. I even threatened to run away when I was 13. "Think of it as an adventure," Dad said. "The Good Lord always provides." Those words grated on me. But I couldn't help noticing how much Dad lived them out. He was a sanguine, upbeat person, always whistling favorite hymns and savoring the little things in life: enjoying a good breakfast, reading the morning paper, walking to the post office, tending his garden, helping Mom in the kitchen.
Life was an adventure because Dad trusted God, and God makes even little things extraordinary.
What Love Looks Like
Caroline Conklin
Seattle, Washington
My father collected Chinese vases. Once, I persuaded him to let me take two of the prettiest ones to school for show-and-tell. A classmate accidentally picked up the box and dropped it. The vases broke into pieces.
"I knew this was a bad idea!" Dad said, jaw clenched. I waited for the punishment. But he collected himself and said, "These things happen. It wasn't your fault."
Still, I ended up crying myself to sleep that night.
The next morning, the two vases were standing on the kitchen table. Had it all just been a bad dream?
No. Dad knew how awful I felt and stayed up late repairing the vases.
It was his way of saying, "I love you."
A Gentle Soul
Shawnelle Eliasen
LeClaire, Iowa
My daddy worked in a steel mill. He carried a metal lunch box. His work clothes smelled of machines and hard labor. He was a sacrificial provider. Only when I was a parent myself did I learn he was so much more than that.
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Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
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