By JE Newton
Note:
A person of
solid faith usually has an extraordinary effect on those around them. As you
shall see, God assigns that faithful follower some very tough tasks at times,
but who else would he give it to. This story is about one of those onerous
tasks that take what Paul talks about in the Bible, perseverance, and does what
Paul said that perseverance would do, build character. It is a meeting of two
different ends of the economic spectrum in life.Confidence in one's own self doesn't equal faith in God and trust in his ability to carry you through.
Robert sat alone and up to his neck
in self-pity with the thought in his head that life stinks! Life was beating
Rob to a pulp with its boredom.
The waitress set a cup of coffee in front of him, asking,
"Can I get you anything else, sir?"
Rob answered with a silent negative
nod while staring straight ahead into nothingness.
At that moment, across town, a young
man named Richie sat in a coffee shop up to his neck in empathy for the
waitress. Her husband had abandoned her with three small children to support
with her meager salary at the coffee shop. He felt embarrassed and felt a need
to apologize for his life of abundance.
Let me give you some background on these two individuals
to help you understand their respective views on life. Robert was born into a
wealthy and prominent family. Life had been served to him on a silver platter.
He never knew a want for money or any of life's necessities. After graduating
from an Ivy League college, his father gave him a high position in one of his
many companies. The job came with a big title, an enormous office, and a
personal secretary. His usual quip to that secretary upon his arrival in the
morning was something along these lines, "Yeah, yeah, good morning. This
sucks. I'd rather be back home in bed." Robert was not a bad person. He
merely had a void in an area that, in most people, contains a cause worth
living for and, if necessary, worth dying for.
Richie Boudreau, son of William, Willie as friends
referred to him, and Cynthia Boudreau, was born into a lower-middle-class black
family of strong Christian faith. Finances were a constant struggle for his
parents, but love was abundant. At six, Richie lost both legs after a horrible
car accident. His parents spent long hours discussing how to approach his
upbringing. They took what appeared at first glance to be a harsh and heartless
approach to the issue: they never let him feel sorry for himself. They told him
the Lord does everything for a good reason. Willie and Cynthia drilled into his
head and his life how his disability would become his strength and a blessing
to him and others. But only if he developed the right attitude, which they
ensured he did. To an outsider, Richie's parent's rules seemed cruel, but those
people were unaware of the loving motives behind the action. What a payoff and
a good man their tough love built, a man that towered above those around him.
Richie was quite capable of creating others into towers of love, faith, and
capability.
The couple living across the hall
from Richie gave me this snippet that summed him up. "Occasionally, Richie
and I walk out the door for work simultaneously. On this particular day, it was
raining cats and dogs. I was not happy about the rain. I had to walk in the
rain to my car and then across the parking lot to my office. This was going to
be a wet miserable day for me. Richie opens the door of his place with his
usual animated smile and swaying side to side on those artificial legs, saying,
'Isn't God's rain beautiful? It restores the world and makes it shine! Don't it
make you feel so alive?' By the way, Richie works outside most of the day. I
looked at him with his handicap and the job outside in this hard rain,
thinking, I have no reason to be in a sour mood. Every time my wife and I see
him, he uplifts us."
Who has true wealth? Is Robert's life
trash and shallow? Currently, yes, but not unsalvageable. God has a way of
salvaging wrecks.
Robert Redmond had the best education money could buy.
His mother and father, Lydia and Max Redmond, wanted to add real-life education
to that education. Well aware of his arrogant and entitled attitude, the two of
them put their heads together. They developed a plan to achieve that real-life
education and, hopefully, get their good son back. It was a long-shot gamble.
Lydia and Max Redmond were born into
modest circumstances. The high society scene was never on their agenda. Neither
of them had difficulty making friends but had little patience for the
superficial relationships needed to climb the social ladder. How their son
acquired his arrogance is not the story...it's how he lost it.
Max loved golf as an instrument to
escape the constant phone calls and people tugging at his coattails. Numerous
stories were floating around the gossip mill at the golf course of people
spotting him under a tree alongside the fairway sound asleep. Max will give you
a wink at this but will never deny the stories. The game matters little to him.
Golf is genuinely his escape mechanism.
His true friends say that intelligence
and sincerity, combined with the man being comfortable with who he is, made Max
a success. However, that description leaves out the quality that any successful
self-made man must possess...cunning. Max had a large reserve of this quality
and planned to use it to put the finishing touch on his son's
education.
It was a Monday morning in June when
Richie bounced into his office at the golf course with that headlight smile
that lit up all before him. Surprisingly, his office was empty. A guest should
have been seated here awaiting his arrival. Robert Redmond was nowhere to be
found inside or outside the office. Richie wasn't as surprised as he put on.
Mr. Redmond had supplied a complete dossier on his son.
At ten o'clock, two hours late,
Robert's BMW Z4 roared down the narrow road that wound through the trees to the
maintenance building where Richie, the Greenskeeper, had his office. Two
workers nearby loaded fertilizer onto a trailer. Their task was stopped by
Robert's approach. They stared in awe as the hot sports car stopped in front of
them. The man who exited the BMW drew even more gasps than his car. His hair
was coifed in the latest style, while his eyes were dressed extravagantly in
custom-made sunglasses. Robert was attired in a suit and shoes one knowing
worker described as "...one of those high-dollar Italian custom-jobs with
the high-dollar handmade shoes to match.
007 in person. Man! That guy is wearing more money than I
make in a year."
Robert suavely strutted into the
large maintenance building and stopped. He pulled his sunglasses down low on
his nose, peering and slowly rotating his head to take in the building's
interior.
Through a large picture window in
front of his desk, Richie took this opportunity to analytically watch and
assess Robert. Richie, the Greenskeeper versus the best-dressed man ever to
step foot on a golf course - to do manual labor. Let the battle begin.
Having arranged the assessment
results in his mind, Richie clomped out his office door to greet Robert. Richie
let out a, "Well, hello! You must be Robert. I'm Richie Boudreau."
Robert turned and, entirely removing his sunglasses,
looked at Richie, starting at his legs and working upward with a stuffy look on
his face. "Yeah, that would be me, Robert Redmond. My dad asked me to tour
the place and learn how the low-level end of the business is run."
Richie smiled a non-surprised kind of
smile that contained a touch of slyness in it. "You bet, Robert. Now, I
hope you brought some work clothes because you will also be working and getting
mighty dirty while you are touring the place. You know...to help you get to
know the low-level end of the business."
Robert lost his cool quickly, but
there was something so calm, so authoritative about Richie. Richie never raised
his tone of voice. He was, as always, surrounded by an aura of
steadfastness.
The two workers loading fertilizer
were enjoying the scene before them. The men had opened their water bottles and
taken a seat on the trailer's side rails. Watching Richie so smoothly handle
Mr. Redmond's son, they were getting a thrill. He presented a conflicting image
compared to the old man, his dad. Unbeknownst to his son, Max Redmond was an
extremely popular and respected man among the grounds crew, who were on a
first-name basis with the executive. The crew chuckled as Robert emerged from
the bathroom wearing an old set of hand-me-down coveralls. These were kept
around for emergencies. 007 had an angry look, which he would keep for several
days.
Richie knew he had won the first
battle but wasn't smug. He knew a war consists of many battles.
Robert's summer-work life would be at
the course per his father's strict do-it-or-lose-your-job orders. Robert had
intelligence hidden beneath that lousy attitude. He could tell his father was
deadly serious about this summer of torture. He wanted his son to learn the
business from bottom to top. Max considered Richie to be the best man for the
job of teacher. He and Richie were good friends, a fact unknown to
Robert.
Max knew Richie would win in a
collision with his son. He had experienced the extreme pleasure of witnessing
Richie transform a tycoon in a drunken rage into a whimpering baby asking for
forgiveness and a second chance on multiple occasions. Those stories were
enough to turn him into a legend among the members. But when you add to that
the trait that Richie was humble and powerful in his faith, you have all the
ingredients of a future leader that would tower over others. As I have shown,
Max wasn't stupid; Richie was being groomed for far better things.
Richie walked out of his office upon
seeing Robert exit the bathroom. "Stan, show Robert the ropes of pushing a
fertilizer spreader over a few acres. Robert, you look much better in those
overalls. We don't want our patrons thinking we are overpaying the hired
hands."
The week passed with several
confrontations between Richie and Robert over Robert's slack performance of his
assigned duties. Robert's arrogance ran up against Richie's bull-like
perseverance time after time. "You're not here to get your nose wiped.
Time and again, "You're here to learn," Richie would say in response
to Robert's tirades over the rugged and sweat-provoking labor.
For Richie, this was no contest
compared to learning to walk on artificial legs and trying to override his
father's demands of perfection that a person with two legs couldn't uphold.
Every time he fell, he begged to quit, but his father made him stand up again
without help. Inside, this had hurt his father, but he knew it would prepare
him for a successful future on his own.
At quitting time on Friday,
Richie took Robert aside. "I'll pick you up at seven o'clock in the
morning. I'm gonna take you fishing."
"I do not fish. Furthermore, I
do not work Saturdays, much less get up before noon."
"I do, and, according to your
dad, so will you. I'll be there at seven." He walked off, leaving an
angered Robert standing by himself.
Bam, bam, bam, the door sounded like
it was being hit with a hammer. Robert rushed to the front door of his posh
high-rise pad. In a sleepy-eyed haze, he opened the door to see the unwelcome
sunshine smile on Richie's face.
"Up and at 'em. We're burning
daylight. Let's go! We've got things to do, places to go, and people to see.
Let's go!"
I'll leave out Robert's expletives
and refusals and just tell you he was in Richie's old van within ten minutes of
the appointed time.
Leaning with sleep-filled eyes
against the van's window, Robert complained, "Where are we going in this
old rattle-trap at this ungodly hour of the morning? You're taking this boss
thing way beyond the job boundaries. My father will hear about this, and you'll
be looking for work."
"Robert, my friend, we are on
our way to pick up some of the greatest kids you'll ever meet. They will melt
your heart and change your life totally. And - they love to fish, my friend. We
do this just about every Saturday morning in the summer. It's time you thought
about someone besides number one."
"I don't fish now - never have
in the past - and never will in the future!"
"Well, that is the last time you can say that and
not be a liar."
They pulled up in front of the church
to twelve rowdy children and their parents. The children were exceptional. They
all had what is referred to as Down Syndrome. These children loved Richie and
his unique legs, his robot legs. In fact, they loved everyone and everything.
Robert Redmond was about to put that statement to the test. But, in reality, he
never stood a chance.
Robert did not have time to complain
about anything once he slid lazily out of the van. The kids attacked him with
questions, hugs, and screams of excitement. He was squeezed, punched, and
pushed till he let out a cry for mercy that went unheeded amid the tremendous
uproar of goodbyes from parents, screams of excitement from twelve overzealous
children, and loading orders being shouted.
In the aftermath of the chaotic
boarding of the children and buckling them into their seatbelts, Richie looked
for Robert. He spotted him in the very back of the van with a boy on one side
that had him in a headlock as he screamed in his ear and, on the other side, a
boy licking his arm. Richie saw a look of terror on Robert's face but wasn't
concerned; that would change when he got to know them better. Till then,
Robert's life would just have to be different. Richie jumped into the driver's
seat and, with a loud "Yahoo," sped off toward the lake.
Above the thunderous roar of the
children, Richie began to make out what sounded like a plea for help, and it
sounded like Robert. Looking into the rearview mirror, he yelled, "You say
something, Robert?"
"Yes, I must have a cup of
Starbucks coffee, or I will not make it. Please, Richie, all kidding aside, I
really need it."
"Sure, man, I'll stop up on
Sheridan. There's a Starbucks there. You're looking a little strung out. You
gonna make it?"
The old van pulled into a parking
spot at the busy Starbucks. Richie turned and asked the kids, "Who wants
to go into Starbucks and get coffee? Mr. Robert wants to buy everyone a big cup
of coffee!"
The van erupted like a volcano as the
kids began throwing the seatbelts to the side, jumping up and down on the seats,
and attacking Robert with hugs and screams.
Robert let out a horrified,
"You're not gonna buy all these crazy kids coffee!"
"Nope...like I said...you are.
Let's go get coffee, guys."
By the time the gang arrived at the lake, Robert had been
half-scalded to death by his own coffee. His clothes were covered in stains
from the kid's iced lattes that they seemed to take great joy in pouring on him
instead of drinking. He was too exhausted to complain anymore. All he could do
was capitulate and let the kids drag him along.
While unloading the fishing poles
from the top of the van, Richie glanced at Robert, haplessly being dragged
along. It gave him a slightly morbid delight. As he watched the show, Richie
took pictures with his phone and forwarded them to a person known only to
himself. The response to the images came back as, "No more pictures, we're
laughing so hard, we are about to die."
After distributing the poles and
getting all the hooks fitted with worms, Richie turned to Robert saying,
"Man, you have got to grow up. Buying that coffee for all the kids just
wired them up. You can't give kids coffee.
The guy that usually comes with me on
these outings has me go to the McDonald's drive-thru, and he buys everyone a
kid's meal that we eat at those picnic tables over there. It's really orderly,
and they love those Happy Meal breakfasts. You should reconsider how you deal
with children."
"But I..."
"I appreciate you volunteering
to take the regular guy's place when he couldn't make it today, but you gotta
act like an adult around kids or they'll take advantage of you. You gotta show
some maturity, my man."
"But I didn't..."
"Yeah, the other dude is really
cool, and the kids love him."
"But you..."
Richie walked away at that point to
help the kids re-bait their hooks and praise the one that caught a small fish,
leaving Robert shaking his head while staring in wonder. Surely, he was in the
Twilight Zone.
Monday morning, Richie's van rolled
slowly down the road to the maintenance building as he did his usual morning
inspection of the course and grounds. He had not traveled far when he brought
the van to a sudden halt. He put it in reverse and backed up. There was Robert,
trimming hedges along the road. Checking his watch, it was six thirty, and
Robert was already at it. Placing the van in park, he climbed out and walked
over to Robert.
"I thought I was seeing things.
Robert, are you okay?"
Robert didn't look up. He kept
running the electric hedge clippers over the hedges. At the same time, he
spoke, "I figure the quicker I obey your tyrannical demands, the quicker
I'm out of this place."
Inside, he was boiling, but outside, Richie's smile grew
even more prominent with that remark. "It's not just obeying, my man. It's
putting a little heart into the job. Look at the mess you've made of this
beautiful hedge. Would you hire someone that did slovenly work like this? Put
the trimmers down and walk over here to me."
Robert complied in a what-now way.
When Robert stood in front of him,
Richie said, "You see that sign over there?"
"Yeah, why?"
"On the count of three, I'm
going to race you to that sign."
"Robert looked down at Richie's
legs and then up to his face remarking with a laugh, "I was a sprinter in
college. There's no way you're gonna beat me."
"We'll see. Get ready.
One...two...three...go!"
Robert won decisively with a haughty
attitude. Richie clomped and hobbled slowly but determinedly the entire
distance till he finished.
Breathing heavily, Richie turned to
Robert with an unusually stern look, saying, "I knew that I couldn't beat
you, but that is not the point. The point is this, I gave it my best effort. My
father taught me that whatever I do, I give my best effort, and I will never
have to be ashamed. Are you incapable of understanding that you don't have to
finish first to be a winner? Being a winner is in the effort, the heart, and
the pride in knowing that you gave it your best shot. How a man carries out the
simplest tasks indicates what he has inside himself and how he'll handle the
important tasks when they are placed on his shoulders." With that said,
Richie turned and walked away, leaving Robert, surprisingly, silent and hanging
his head.
At the end of the work day, Robert
walked into Richie's office and sat beside his desk. "Richie, I owe you an
apology for this morning."
"No, sir, you do not owe me an
apology. You owe your mom and dad an apology for embarrassing them. They love
you and want to be proud of you, but you act like a brainless idiot with no
sign of ever being anything but a self-serving slug. You're mom and dad gave
you all the tools needed to make you a good person and a success. Instead, you
spit in their face with your me-me-me attitude. If you feel a need to apologize
to someone, apologize to them. Your dad used to walk up to anyone that would
give him the time of day and show them pictures of you. He would tell them how
wonderful a son you are. Your mom bragged continuously about her genius baby
boy. And while we're on the subject of apologies, those kids you think are no
better than a dull pain in your neck talk about you constantly, like you're
some kind of hero. Hah! Those kids can only dream without hope of having the
abilities and opportunities you have before you. No, you don't owe me an
apology."
Robert stood slowly with a shock
coming from the sudden realization that everything Richie said was true. He
walked out of the office without another word. Richie wasn't angry, just
worried about Robert and his lack of caring about anything but his personal
happiness. He was beginning to understand why Max and Lydia were so fearful
about the change in Robert's life vision during his college years.
Saturday morning, Richie pulled into
the church parking lot to an astonishing sight. Robert was standing in the
middle between the parents and the kids and talking and laughing with them. He
pulled the van to a stop at the usual location and hopped out. Immediately,
Robert began loading the kids and buckling them in.
Wearing that trademark smile, Richie
walked up to Robert lightheartedly, asking, "I didn't expect to ever see
you here again. Are we stopping at Starbucks this morning?"
Robert stopped what he was doing and
answered, "No, I think the Mcdonald's drive-thru would be the better
choice."
The kids were loaded in a much
improved and orderly manner. The van rolled away with the usual waves and
shouts of goodbye. Meanwhile,
Robert sat next to Richie in front
this time. He looked at Richie, saying in a serious yet gentle tone, "Why
didn't you tell me Dad was the one that usually accompanies you on these
trips?"
"You never asked. All you
thought about that Saturday was your precious sleep and your coffee. Did he
tell you?"
"Mom did. I can't believe I
never knew he was doing something like this...my dad."
"Makes you proud, doesn't it?
The weekly summer fishing trip with these kids is important to your dad. He
loves these kids, and they love him. He bought all the fishing equipment...do
you know that? Of course, you don't. There are a lot of things about your dad
that you don't know. Things that would make you even prouder of him, but he
prefers to do those good things anonymously. Another thing, do you know that
he's a man of deep and quiet faith? No? He's not a regular church-goer. He says
sitting there while the preacher talks put him to sleep. But that doesn't stop
him from donating tremendous sums to my church missions or stop him leading the
kids in prayer before the meals."
Robert stared at Richie with a
faraway look. He was trying to absorb a tremendous amount of life-changing
information in a short period of time. What he learned made him feel so
ignorant, so stupid, so...self-worshipping.
Thrusting his head into his hands, he
blurted out, "Help, I'm blind! I must be blind. All this has been going on
around me, and I saw nothing. How can I be so blind, Richie?"
Richie kept his concentration on the
road. He was driving a van with precious cargo. He didn't need to lose
concentration. Poor Robert had been hit by the blinding light of Christ. Richie
calmly said, "Robert, it's okay. We all grow up at different times and at
different ages. You're a good man, Robert. Your parents and I knew a good heart
was behind that stone facade. You gotta keep it together for now. We've got a
vanload of kids entrusted to our care. I need your help."
Robert took a deep breath, then
unbuckled his seat belt and, turning to the kids, said, "Hey, you guys
ready for McDonalds?"
Richie smiled and let out a loud sigh
of relief, remarking half to himself,
"Paul wants to know who this new
man next to me is."
Richie drove along the road to the
maintenance building this beautiful Monday morning, doing his routine
inspection. Despite his attention to business, his thoughts drifted to this
being Robert's last week at the course. His thoughts focused on how different
Robert was, as a human being, compared to the day he first arrived. His father
had been burning Richie's ears almost daily with compliments on the change, but
Richie would have none of it. He loved challenging assignments, especially when
they dealt with helping others conquer their problems. All people have good
hearts, but many have built facades to protect them against life's
difficulties. He loved tearing away the built-up layers to get at that
beautiful heart. Besides, helping others was the best way to make you forget
about your problems. "Right, Dad?"
Richie walked into his office and immediately noticed a
new computer and printer set up with an envelope taped to the tower that read:
Richie, do not use till you read these instructions.
He took the envelope and sat down at his desk. Inside the
envelope was a handwritten letter. Leaning back in his chair, he began to read.
Dear Richie, my Teacher and Friend,
I decided to handwrite this so you
would know that I didn't have my secretary compose and write it. I'm stepping
out of my old comfort zone.
I'm taking this last week off. I desperately need to
accomplish some things that should have been done long ago. First, the computer
is loaded with all the programs you will need to track your budgets, personnel,
daily/yearly maintenance schedules, etc. It will save time and be more
efficient than the old handwritten method I watched you labor over. The
accounting section is sending a man to you today to train and work with you on
loading all the data. He or she will work with you for as long as needed to get
you proficient in its use. I know you have the intelligence to learn the
process. Remember what you taught me, you don't have to come in first place to
win. You just have to give it your best effort.
The keys in the envelope are a secret between you and me.
They go to a new van. Don't worry; it's paid for along with the insurance. That
old van of yours is not safe for the kids to ride in, and a man in your
position shouldn't be driving around in a jalopy like that. Remember, keep this
between you and me. Tell everyone that you bought it. If not, you'll ruin my
chance to do something, for a change, that doesn't have me written all over it.
Regarding your Greenskeeper position,
Dad and I had a long talk without yelling. He wants me to take a new position
as VP of Accounting. Why? I don't know. I have done nothing to deserve it,
apart from the fact that I'm the spoiled son of the boss. In my place as
Director of Golf Courses, I suggested you. Dad shot that down...unless I gave
you a lot more money than I had been making. He said you would do an honest
day's work in that position. We're giving you a month to get comfortable with
the new system and teach it to your successor. Then you will move into the
office I am vacating.
Richie, don't think you're rid of me.
Dad said he thinks it's time he retired from the fishing business and turned it
over to someone that could give it more energy. I'll be there next summer for
fishing season with the kids. Maybe I'll be able to take a few fishing lessons
from you between now and then.
God bless you, my friend. You taught
me more in one summer than I learned in four years at that Ivy League college.
Thank you for the miracle of sight.
Your Friend and Student, Robert
Redmond
PS You're getting rid of those old
prosthetic legs and getting some new ones, even if I have to buy them myself.
They make some that would enable you to ALMOST beat me in a sprint.
