By Kathleen Kjolhaug
Dad died this past year and today, I received my inheritance. In a one-gallon sealed plastic bag it was delivered. My fingers shake hands with the past and I open it. Dad worked hard for everything he ever had. Now, the evidence was before me.
As I broke the seal, the red, white, and blue pen made its way to the surface. PARAGUAY, the country in which I’d served in Peace Corp stood out in red letters upon the white thread on which it was displayed. I’d served as he did—somewhere far from home in hopes of building a better world. Dad didn’t toss the inexpensive item I’d purchased for him so long ago, but kept it amidst his treasures. Now, once again, it was mine.
Next as the white tissue paper beckoned, I gently unwrapped that which was within. A threeinch two-toned brown statue with gold letters upon the base stood watch before me. “God Bless Dad,” it said. The small bird next to the feet of St. Francis must have been gifted at some point along life’s journey. It served as a gentle reminder his heart had received that which had been given.
As my fingers reached further into the clear gallon bag, a Father’s Day card sent long ago came to light. “Wouldn’t have wanted any other dad in the world!” was the hand written note within. The truth is, dads don’t always feel adequate in their role. Each of us can only live out our imperfections to the best we know how, leaving the rest to Our Father.
A small weighted book was next. “My Daily Bread” were the golden words upon the cover and within its pages were tucked: one decorative plastic cross shaped book mark looking just like the ones his mama made. A yellowed Veteran’s prayer pushed its way out as did a prayer from a retreat he’d gone on a time or two. The words of wisdom were tucked not only into the folds of the book, but also into the folds of dad’s heart. If dad had taken time to go on retreat, it had made an impact deep within.
The final object to roll on out was a stash of cash. For years we’d heard the story behind it. It wasn’t the cash that was so important to us, but wisdom gained in the process of gaining it.
I removed the weighted object tucked within paper fingering it carefully. The words, “Silver” upon the red roll and “$10 Quarters” was now in my hands. You see, dad had saved. In fact, for a long time, he’d stored up some of his hard-earned money in order to invest in what he’d hoped would be something for his future.
Into the bank he went one day, plopping down his cash in front of what he thought was a trusted employee of the institution. Sooner than later, the man before him had just the right investment—it was SILVER. It just so happened the man had some (albeit his own personal property). Dad agreed to purchase not one, but six rolls of his quarters that were pure silver. Wouldn’t you know, the price came to exactly $2,000.00. Opening the drawer within the desk, the banker pulled out the quarters and handed them over to dad.
Dad left with the quarters, and the banker left with the cash as well as one more piece of information that dad knew nothing of. The silver market was about to crash, and the next morning, when it made news around the world, dad knew he’d been had. What did dad do? Did he go into the bank and demand a refund? Did he go to the bank to expose the crooked behavior of the local banker? Dad did not. With integrity, he owned it and understood he had a part to play. Today, I received my roll he’d purchased that day and dad’s five other children received theirs. We are all blessed to have an inheritance. It says so in Proverbs 13:22: “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children.” What dad passed down will be passed on. Dad’s ability to see the good in mankind when mankind was not so good to him, was pure gift.
Dad lived his life still able to trust others and in the end, gave the roll of quarters as he’d promised—times six. “It is more blessed to give than to receive,” says Acts 20:35. May we each be as blessed in giving that which will be ours to give in life. Amen.
