Big Shoes

I must be a fossil and, as Paul said to the Corinthians, “One born out of time.” Today was a very odd day, a day of radical extremes. I had an unnerving peek at the future as well as a comical blast from the past which brought up: Blackjack chewing gum; Wax Coke-shaped bottles with colored sugar water; Candy cigarettes; Soda pop machines for glass bottles; Diners with table juke boxes; Telephone party lines; Newsreels before movies; P.F. Flyers; All-night TV test patterns; 45 RPM records; S&H greenstamps; Metal ice trays with levers; Blue flashbulbs; Roller skate keys; Drive-ins; Wash tub wringers.

As funny as it sounds, those things are comfortable for me. Oh, I’m a fan of the new things that have replaced them, but still they trigger memories of a simpler time when life made more sense and I had little responsibility. I grew up in a tiny town and everyone there believed in God, well except for one man. And everyone was pretty nice except for you-know-who. There was a K-8 school and only one church and they were fixtures in the community. Everyone went to both whenever the doors were open. Okay, there was a family of Baptists that went to the neighboring town on Sunday mornings, but they went to the town church other times or I went with them for evening services.

We knew everyone’s name. I sometimes took over my brother’s paper route on my bike and often had to collect for the papers. It was important to know the subscribers and who needed to pay. It was mostly fun except for rainy/snowy days or when I had to go to you-know-who’s door. There weren’t many jobs for kids, and the only other one I had was picking strawberries from the truck patch.

As I glance back there, I now can see that there were heroes walking around me. I saw faithfulness. I saw kindness. I saw patience. I saw persistence. Our little church couldn’t afford a full-time pastor, so preachers came and went frequently. However, the life of the church went on unchanged. The heroes made sure the rest of us had an opportunity to worship and to learn. The music, the family life activities, the children’s programs, and one of my personal favorites, the chowder, continued on year after year. I had the privilege of telling one of the heroes “thank-you,” but the others I’ll have to catch up with later in heaven to tell them what they meant to me.

But now, I need to look forward. I hope those of us who are just plugging away at life can fill the shoes of heroes to the little ones around us. Having had a hint of the future, they are going to need it.