“Don’t look back, lengthen your stride, and press toward the goal." ~ Philippians 3:13-14
As a young lad of six, Eric’s
first friend wasn’t another little boy or girl, but an eighty old man. Their
farm lay outside a small town that spoke of denim skies, rustic winds, and
bygone days. A single television received only one channel clearly.
It was a place of solitude and the freedom of playful
thoughts; a place to hear the rain on the old tin roof as if it were music from
the heavens. Eric spent most of his free time playing alone outside amid the tall
grass and meadow flowers.
It was only a matter of time before Eric’s curiosity led him
to “Little Barney’s” house. Town folk called him that because he was short and hunched
over from a lifetime of hard work. Although he had money from disciplined
saving, he lived in the only three rooms of a dilapidated, 100-year-old farmhouse
that were still livable.
It had no electricity or running
water. Barney cooked his meals and heated his house with an ancient cast iron
stove. He still worked every day gardening, cooking, and cleaning.
A first-generation, German
immigrant, Barney spoke only broken English, but Eric understood him well enough.
They would share fried-baloney sandwiches and fresh vegetables. Then the old
man would show the boy old photos from decades gone by.
There was a peacefulness about Barney
that seemed out of place even now. He labored long, worried little, gave
freely, smiled easily, laughed gently, and loved kindly. He never complained
about how difficult it was to be a Depression-era child.
But its lasting effects were
evident.
They loved going outside at dusk
and chase lightning bugs. Lying down in the grass, they’d gaze at the stars,
trying to identify constellations. It was a time of savoring simple things,
slowing down to rest, and unplugging from the world.
"Look at the sky,"
he'd say in a dreamy, wistful tone. With a small smile on his face, Barney
would draw out the words longer than necessary, orchestrating a symphony of
perfectly melted hues. Then he’d stay silent, taking it in as if for the first
time, acknowledging its unpretentious beauty.
Their friendship was short-lived.
Little Barney died when the boy was still young. Yet, part of him still lives
on in Eric’s heart and mind. He became a better adult because of the brief time
they spent together. He is kinder, more loving, and closer to God because of their
early friendship.
An earlier generation’s
knowledge is a goldmine of wisdom and strength if we’re willing to listen and
learn. We all too have those special teachers, who touch our lives briefly but
stay in our hearts forever. May we always love them, cherish them, and embrace
what they teach.
Almighty Father, help us let go so that we
can make room for You. Inspire in us the margin and space to breathe more
deeply, live more simply, and appreciate the beauty surrounding us more fully. Amen
