My Dad was incredibly generous. Growing up, we weren’t well off, but he always ensured we had everything we needed. We lived a modest lifestyle, and even when my father started to do well in business, he remained humble.
Random Acts of Kindness
When my Dad passed away, a few men came up to the pulpit and shared stories of how he would slip them money when they were unemployed and going through a hard time. He would give them +$500.00 when they most needed it. That was in the 60s and 70s when that kind of money was unheard of! He would never brag about this while he was alive. We heard it from strangers.
All of us kids remember a rather extraordinary thing Dad would do around Christmas. He would drive around to random houses (well, we thought they were random houses) and drop off envelopes at folks’ homes.
I remember it clearly. He would tell me, “Bubba (a name we all use in the South), go put this one in the mailbox.” And off I would go with an envelope. At the next house, I would put the envelope behind a screen door or on a car seat – any random place where it wouldn’t be easily noticed. And then we would drive away.
When I started working for him many years later, I discovered what was in those envelopes. He gave each person money so that they could make it through Christmas. He never made a big deal out of it because he didn’t want them to feel embarrassed or ashamed.
That’s who he was. I have known this story my entire life, and it still brings me tears.
A Hand-Up, NOT a Hand-Out
Most people want to give so that others will think they are generous. My father sought folks out who needed “a hand-up” (he never called it a “hand-out”), and he never said a word about it. He had such a gift for humanity. He lived modestly and gave generously.
I have always wondered if he lived so modestly because the pleasure of giving was so enjoyable for him. He always saw money as a tool. He saw himself as a steward of that money. This helps me understand his generosity to some degree. His intentionality and consistency were remarkable.
Listen to That Small Voice Inside
My father taught me that we must give to receive. He was always called “Midas” by everyone who knew him. People thought he had a “business” gift, but what he had was a gift for humanity. He always listened to that small voice inside that said “take action” to help others instead of just shrugging it off.
How many times have I shrugged off that voice? How many times have I walked by a person in need? We can change that by listening to our inner voice. It doesn’t have to be $50,000 every year. It can be a smile for the cashier, holding the door for someone at the grocery store, or returning the darn cart at the store! Today, I try to be intentional in all I do and let that voice of compassion lead the way.
At one time in my life, I was not coping well. I was full of doubt and self-pity, and I questioned everything.
My Dad, as always, had some wisdom for me.
He said, “Son, don’t analyze, utilize.” He said to quit feeling sorry for myself and get back to work. And that is exactly what I did.
Yes, I was scared, but I pulled myself towards myself and started turning my life around. My courage came from the foundation of my Dad’s generosity.
My Dad was a servant leader long before it was popular. I was privileged to learn many valuable lessons from him, and I will always be grateful for his compassion, humility, and humanity.
I wasn’t privileged to know your Dad, but what a wonderful example he was – for all of us! I appreciate you sharing some of his story.