Dad Wished ME A Happy Fathers' Day Today
What follows is a copy of the program handout for a musical our church choir performed, about 27 or 28 years ago. I happened upon it some months ago, in an old file folder, and stuck it in a mail sorter rack on my desk. This afternoon, I pulled it out and looked at it.
As a word of explanation, I have trouble remembering breakfast, but for some reason, I've always had a good memory for music. As a kid, when I played accordion, if I could perform the song, I didn't need the music any more. I could remember it. Same for the banjo.
When it came to cantatas and quartet numbers, I always put just a little work into them, and normally always did them without the music. Did that with narration, too. I really, really resolved to trust God to give me the grace to do those from the heart, and not have to read them.
He never failed.
Whatever work it was, to do that, was more than amply repaid when I read Dad's handwriting on the back of the program. I don't want to be proud of it; I just want to be happy that Dad apparently was.