By Bill Ellis
Special to ASSIST News Service

SCOTT
DEPOT, WV -(ANS)-Forty-seven years ago, the body my Dad lived in for 58
years, was gently lowered into the ground in Mt. Vernon Cemetery in the heart
of beautiful Teays Valley, West Virginia. Today as I have nearly every day
since his death, July 1, 1963, I thought of him – again trying to do the
utterly impossible task of putting into words, feeble and faltering words, all
that he means to me.

He gave me and all his family
priceless treasures, treasures beyond all earthly value, in both quantity and
quality.

He gave me love. I never knew what
it was like not to be loved by my father. That must be the reason I like to
think of God as my heavenly Father. Father is a word I’ve always equated with
the deepest kind of love.

He taught me the necessity and
meaning of discipline. It was not necessary for Dad to correct me often for the
simple reason that he always performed this chore well. The child that is
deeply loved is lovingly disciplined.

He taught me to respect others and
their property. A trip early one Sunday morning, before Sunday School, to a
neighbor’s house to apologize for a wrong done by me and her nephew will never
be forgotten. This was hard to do, but made possible by Dad’s encouraging words
falling on the ears of a hesitant son. My young playmate, Rondal Browning,
became a Methodist pastor.

He taught me the value and nobleness
of hard work – both physical and mental, not so much by words as by example. He
worked hard and lived frugally in order to provide well for his family. Without
the early advantage of formal schooling, he studied long and diligently in
later years. He became knowledgeable and skillful in many areas of normal
living.

He encouraged me to continue in
higher education which I did for more than 10 years beyond high school. He was
a wise and diligent student, reading much but more from the Bible, the greatest
of all books, than any other book. He was well acquainted with God’s Word.

He set a wonderful example for a
growing family as to what a husband and father should be. He ruled his own
house well. He ruled with love and respect. He gave us his best at all times.

He lived as an exemplary Christian
and will forever be a constant challenge to me. He knew what it was to grow
spiritually. He was the kind of man every pastor is thrilled to have as a
member of the church.

He loved people. Their needs were
his concern. He was always slow to criticize another. He taught me, “If
you can’t say something good about a person, then don’t say anything.”

He taught me that true values come
from God. That our best should be given for God’s work, work which he
faithfully and generously supported. He admonished me often to be aware of the
praise of men by saying, “Keep your feet on the ground.”

He gave me his best right to the
very end. In his last days, hours, and minutes, his faith did not falter. He
rejoiced to see the day when he would go to be with his wonderful Lord whom he
served devotedly and devoutly. Words fail in tribute to him. One last honest
word – He lived the Christian life more perfectly than any man I have ever
known.

I have always hoped I could be the
same caliber of man, husband, father, neighbor and Christian that he was. I
learned this prayer in a public school classroom that begins “Our Father
who art in heaven, Hallowed be they name” (Matthew 6:9).

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