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Topic: Poor (10/25/04)
TITLE: Faith of a Milkman
By Kristin Slavik
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Ask anyone in todayís society what having seven children in a two-bedroom house made you. They would probably say poor. I donít think any of his children would have said that they were poor.
My grandfather worked for most of his life as a milkman. A true embodiment of an American era, he would deliver your dairy products right to your door. At that time, locking your doors was unnecessary in the small town in which he lived. He would often walk in and check what was needed and stock the refrigerator accordingly.
When other people in the town were falling on hard times, my grandfather would deliver the milk anyway. He knew he may not get paid, and he knew that it would be deducted from his check, but he would not let anyone go without necessities. He would have said it was just the right thing to do. I marvel at the faith it took to not look at what he was lacking at home, but to look only at what he could do right then.
His faith was reflected in other areas of his life as well. He had a small workshop where he built things and fixed things for others in his town that needed his help. He volunteered at his church and was there when his family needed him. I canít imagine a truer servant for the Lord.
When he got older he still was busy helping others. Maybe that was why he and his wife never left the two-bedroom house. Maybe it was because they never had much and they realized they never needed much.
I did not get to know about this great man until he died. Unfortunately, I was a product of young parents that separated early in my life. I saw him every couple of years, but it was not until his passing that I learned of the amazing spirit behind this seemingly simple man.
His funeral spilled out of the large sanctuary. So many people came to tell their stories of how he had touched them in some way. His generosity and his love had moved them all. His children spoke of his gentleness and his love of fishing. They all had special memories of the time he took with each of them.
He was a war veteran as well and I was touched when he was given a true veteranís send off. My grandmother said he would have been embarrassed by all the fuss. I was honored. This was not the funeral of a poor man, but of a man rich in every way that mattered.