I Know What I Can Do Now

I can still see my dad sitting by the kitchen window next to the chrome edged table.  Through the window were the colours of a spring day.  I believe it was a Sunday as we were all dressed up.  My dad was holding my younger brother who was probably about 1 year old.  That would make me 4.   I watched intently leaning against another chair as Dad put the socks and shoes on my brother’s feet.

He brushed the bottom of a tiny foot with his roughened hands and gently slipped on a light blue sock.  He looked at me, smiled  and his blue eyes twinkled. He brushed the sock again once, then twice.  He took a little shoe from off the table and opened it wide, being so careful as he tenderly slipped the foot into the little white shoe and tied it caringly.  Then he did the next foot.

It was a most tender moment and showed me a side of my Dad few witnessed.  Those in our community who had George Timko as a school teacher or a principle knew him for his strict discipline and stern demeanor he usually carried.  Based on the stories from older children, I had always been afraid of my Father. 

But it was that moment that I knew my Father loved us. The epiphany of that memory has always remained. If my stern and disciplined Father could show such love and tenderness, so too must our Heavenly Father be a God of love.

At a recent funeral for a friend’s father, our friend recalled this moment in his father’s life.  After the death of his wife of 63 years, the father’s health also started to decline.  Always active and independent, as he became more and more confined physically, he became more and more unhappy. 

Finally, they approached their father about this.  Their father admitted that he felt useless, a burden to them and there was nothing for him to do since he was now confined to a wheelchair. He would not even try to take care of himself anymore and they were afraid he also would not live much longer.  They encouraged him to seek help through prayer.  The father replied he would pray, but did not expect any answer.

The next day when the children came, their father was up and dressed.  He wore a smile and his whole attitude had taken a sudden change.  “I know what I can do now”, he said.  “Though I cannot physically do what I did before, I am mentally sound.  There are many people who need prayers like me.  My purpose is to pray for people.”  From that day on until he passed away, at the age of 92, the man spent his days in prayer for others.

Written by Michelle Gietz, a Parish Finance Council member of St. Mary’s, Brooks.