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Fool’s Gold: Lessons from a Childhood Quest

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From childhood, I learned that not everything that glitters is gold.

I remember my boyhood experiences as a child playing by myself around a nearby creek. The gurgling of the water as it rushed over the rocks always filled my soul with a sense of peace. The sounds of the birds simply became an orchestra of a soundtrack beneath the creek sounds.

I was pulling rocks from the bottom of the creek to begin a fort, and I stirred up a flurry of gold glittering in the water. I thought, I’ve struck gold. This would solve those financial problems I heard my parents talking about.

I decided to collect as much as I could that day and bring it home to share with my folks.

I had seen in westerns the miners panning for gold, so I pedaled home quietly entered in the back door avoiding my mom, borrowing a pan and a shovel from the garage.

After coming back I panned for the little flakes compiling them in a repurposed tobacco sack now used for marbles.

After endless hours of the endeavor, darkness was coming on, so I collected my gains, my tools and got on my bike and pedaled home to beat the street lights from coming on.

When everything was put away, I proudly presented my day’s endeavors to my dad.

He opened the sack, looked inside and said, “Son, come over here.” He lifted me up upon his knee and said to me look inside this bag. I did thinking how proud I was of my efforts.

Beside the bag he held out his ring finger which held his wedding band and said, “Now, look at my ring. Does what you have in the bag look like what’s on my finger?”

I looked back and forth between the sack and his ring and I looked up at him and said,

“They are different. Why are they different?”

He smiled and said, “Because, son, all that glitters is not gold. What you have here is a bag of iron pyrite, often called ‘fool’s gold’.”

“So, it’s not worth anything?”, I asked.

“Well let’s think on that,” he said. “How long did you spend on gathering this bag?”

I told him all day. He asked me if I worked hard at it and I told him that I was plum tuckered out.

“Did you enjoy the time you did it?” he asked.

“I did,” I told him.

“Have you learned anything from the experience?” he inquired.

“Yes, I learned that sometimes you can spend all day trying to get the gold and come home empty-handed,” I said.

He said that is a good lesson, but another one was not to jump at every shiny thing in life.

“If you do, you may find out too late that shiny things are not what is best for you in your life,” he said.

Before he set me back down, he pulled the drawstring on the bag, handed it back to me.

“Son, thank you for what you tried to do for our family,” he said. “Your heart was in the right place. Just keep trying.

“Next time, you may just find a true treasure. Just learn a bit and maybe talk to me about it before jumping feet first into it,” he counseled. “Also, I would get your mom’s skillet washed and put back before she realizes you were using it.”

I smiled and climbed off his knee.

“Son, why don’t you put that bag on your bedpost? I think when you see it, it will remind you that bright and shiny isn’t always what’s best for us,” he said.

“Sure Pa,” I said.

Not too long ago, I was going through some boxes in my attic, and ran across that white bag of fool’s gold, I was reminded the adventure of that day was such a great memory. I could almost hear the creek again emanating from the iron pyrite in my hand.

That childhood lesson has tempered my choices throughout my life. I found those shiny things my father was talking about are more than just gold. They could be a beautiful girl, a flashy car, a better job, a big house or every imaginable toy an adult might want.

While, sometimes I have weakened being drawn for a time to shiny things, I have managed to step back from the precipice before jumping feet first without a full review of what I was about to swallow hook, line and sinker.

Are you jumping for every shiny thing that comes your way? Maybe, it’s time to look more deeply into your personal bag of fool’s gold before you buy that next thing that glitters in front of you.

The Little Things Mean a Lot

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When I was growing up, I had many role models. My parents were great role models imparting many lessons. Some were easily learned while others took a bit of strict discipline to get them through my thick head.
My grandfather Jesse and both my grandmothers were role models. My older brothers in a way, even though they were ahead of me a few years on the learning curve, taught me a lot. Some of the key lessons was missing out on the discipline they received by proper coaching away from some of the mistakes they made.
Several of my parent’s friends and extended family also at times found their way into role model list as I was growing up imparting bits and pieces of wisdom on various topics as life’s opportunities afforded. When we remodeled our bathroom, I learned a lot from my Uncle Clarence about building and doing tile work. My Uncle Waymond taught me a lot about trapping and hunting.
Standing alongside my father as he worked on various projects, I saw him pull his tools from his black tool bag. He would lay out the tools he might need, in a neat order, he then began his diagnostic approach to figuring out what was wrong with whatever device he was fixing.
I stood there watching what he was doing as he strategically isolated the potential issues until he deduced the solution and used his tools to make it work again. He then cleaned up his tools and packed them away into his leather bag like a doctor with his instruments.
He told me that it might seem like a little thing to clean off your tools and properly pack them away until next time they are needed. But if you do it, he said. You will have them ready when needed again.
It’s a little thing, he said, but if you don’t take care of the little things, you won’t take care of the big things.
As time has went by, I have learned that lesson well. I have seen people who do not care for the little things lose sight of the importance of caring for the big things.
Perhaps that is why I have always looked towards the details in every project.
If you take care of those, all the others parts will fall into place.
Learning the lessons passed on from others can make each of the tasks we take on in life find greater success.
The little things really do matter!

Can the wisdom of a lifetime be shared?

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I was out buying tomato plants for the garden the other day and it brought back memories of my thirteenth Summer. I was in Boy Scouts and took on a project to teach crafts at Ashton Woods Convalescent Center a few miles from my home. I remember being excited to get to teach leatherwork and other crafts to the residents. While a few took part, I remember after a while my interest turned from teaching to learning.

Many of my free hours at the center were spent helping Mr. Farnell with the community vegetable garden. He was confined to his wheelchair, but with his knowledge and my arms, we raised an outstanding garden that year. I don’t think I’ve ever been that successful with tomatoes, peppers, squash and the like. That Summer he shared with me many stories of his life, his work with A&P grocery. But largely he taught me how to appreciate the beauty of life. The joy of helping God make something grow.

Many of the gardening techniques he shared with me are still with me today.

Many of the residents made a lasting impression on me that year.

Mrs. McMahan was a simple joy to be around. She was the type of person who could just make you smile when she walked in the room. In spite of her battles with bad health, her outlook was always uplifting. From her I learned that even the worst day can be faced with a smile.

Mr. And Mrs. Boxley both lived in the center. To me they seemed like a wonderful couple. They both had a spirit to enjoy life. They took each moment and did all they could with it. They both shared a passion for bird watching. They shared it with me. I still have a bird book Mrs. Boxley gave to me after Mr. Boxley passed away. Yesterday I saw a most unique bird with blue back and crimson front. There’s not a day that I see a bird I’ve never seen before they those two don’t cross my mind.

Mrs. Petit was one of the first severe stroke patients with which I spent time. She had lost the use of one side of her body and spoke only with great effort. I learned the importance of perseverance from her. No matter what craft project we undertook, she made every effort to do her part.

There were dozens of patients that Summer who I met and who became a part of my childhood. Many shared with me bits and pieces of their knowledge, their wisdom. Many were glad to share the company of a young person who was sincerely interested in them.

A boy scout project brought me there, but it was the people who kept me coming back for years to come. Eventually the folks I had grown close to were all called home. I often wish we could visit today, talk about where I’ve been and how they played a part in making me who I am today. I guess they are with me, even though I cannot speak with them. They speak to me in memories, in the things they taught me. When I’m digging in the garden to plant the tomatoes, I can still envision Mr. Farnell sitting next to me saying “Dig a little deeper son, those roots need room to grow.”

I often wonder what wisdom I will leave on this earth once I’m gone. Who will remember the things that were important to me? Will I leave a legacy of Wisdom? I hope so, because within me, there are so many people who I would like to see live on in what I share.

If you have never took the time to visit with older members of your family, church, community. I encourage you to spend some time with them. Listen to their stories, even though you think you may have heard them a thousand times. When they are gone, you will struggle to bring those moments back in your mind. You may even wish you had written the wisdom they shared down.

Often times with the people that we see the most, we neglect to cherish the times and wisdom they are sharing.

Wisdom can be shared. It can be passed from one to another, if only we are open to learning. Sometimes, only with age the wisdom of what has been shared with us will become apparent. But it is never too early to start accumulating shared wisdom. Someday it will come in handy.

A heart of hope and help

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I can remember going door to door as a youth collecting canned foods to place in paper bags with the blue letters marked upon the sides – Goodwill. This organization was one of the many that our family moved the young people in my circles to do work to benefit.
When parents work to instill in children the importance of giving their time and energies to help others, it provides solid stones upon which they may walk throughout their lives. I saw my parents take their last cash dollar and give it to someone who had even less than they did. I saw them both give endless hours to all types of efforts to uplift others.
Those lessons learned by watching their daily walk, changed my life and gave me a sense of hope that their generosity was the norm in the world.  I assumed there would always be those that do the same. Unfortunately, despite that hope, in the intervening time I have discovered with each passing year I see fewer and fewer that reach beyond themselves.
That does not mean however that I have become jaded in what I have seen. I still loving caring people that reach into other people’s lives with their gifts of time, talents, and when needed money. Perhaps I see more of that because, those are the people I choose to live and serve beside.
In adulthood, I have seen many generous people give to others when needs arose. I have seen people who had nothing themselves, give to those who have even less. I have seen those who appear to be well situated also give. I personally have been the benefactor of other’s generosity when I faced hard times due to an unexpected accident.
As humans, as Americans, we are the greatest we can be when we put aside any differences that others place between us and we work together to make the world around us a better place. We uplift those that have less, we strive to create opportunities for people to improve their lives, whether through education, needed treatment, or simply eliminating barriers which seem to prevent a person from succeeding.
I have no idea what may be the need in your community. But we as individuals cannot solve the problems of the world or our own country. All we can do is make a difference locally. There are millions of us who can look around and find ways to change the communities we call home. Spread the smiles of hope, look to fill the voids, band together and find ways to bring your home folks together to create a better place to live for all your neighbors.
It is only locally that we can truly serve and uplift each other. Make the world a better place by starting at home in your neighborhood, your town, your county. Once we make things better in each of those, our country, our world will not only be better, but folks from outside will be less able to divide us, because we will know our neighbors’ true hearts of hope and help.