March 8, 2001
Like Father, Like Son
by Joshua Carden
You’ve heard the phrase. You’ve probably used the phrase. You see a son behaving in a manner like his father, sometimes imitating him directly. Our current President is certainly fulfilling this maxim. To varying degrees, sons just naturally resemble their fathers.
If you’ve read between the lines of my columns, you know that I like books. I’ve always like books. I learned to read early, and never looked back. As a matter of fact, one of my most dreaded punishments was to lose my reading privileges for a day! I get this love for books mostly from my father. Although both of my parents read aloud to us, he especially encouraged me to read. Dad gave me books of his and I tried to read them. I got his old Hardy Boys collection when I turned 12 or so and frequently “borrowed” from the rest of his library. My love for reading reflected his. Like Father, like Son. I knew we had similar tastes in reading, but I had no idea how similar they were until this event took place:
We have a flea market that comes monthly to Weatherford, TX. If you don’t know what a flea market is, it’s NOT a place to sell your fleas. There are already enough to go around, and the market price has pretty much bottomed out. Instead, this is a time for everyone for miles to bring their junk, er, treasures and sell them to the masses. It’s basically like everyone in town having a collective garage sale. Some of you moms and dads need to wipe off the drool now.
On this particular weekend, I went to the flea market. It was called First Monday, even though it was held on the weekend. Somebody explained it to me once, something about being the weekend before the first Monday of the month, but it made about as much sense as trying to understand leap year: you have it, you mark it on your calendar, then you forget about it until the next one. As I was browsing through the “heirlooms,” I happened upon a book stall. Flipping through the wares, I found a book called “The Restless Gun.” It was a children’s book (a western), something I collect, and was priced around a dollar. I toyed with the idea of buying it, and then decided to move on. Later, having covered the acres of vendors, I thought I would mosey (I mosey when I’m not running) on back and see if it was still there. Sure enough, it was. I bought it, wrapped it up, and took it home.
When I got home, I was just settling in to start on the book when my dad walked in. He took one look at me and casually remarked “Where did you get my book?” I looked at him and said “I just got this at First Monday.” In a voice that showed he thought I was joking he said “No-o-o, that’s my book. Where did you get it?” I finally persuaded him that I had just purchased it. “Open to the flyleaf,” he said. I did, and as he came to look over my shoulder, what did my wondering eyes behold but the handwriting of an eleven-year-old boy: “Jimmy Carden.” The same book that provided enjoyment for my father all these years ago, caught my eye at a flea market. Like father, like son.
Now that my father has passed away, I treasure mementos like this book. More importantly, I treasure the teaching he left me that has allowed me to seek my Father in heaven. Jesus once said “I do nothing but what I see the Father doing.” In another passage, Paul tells us that we have the rights of joint-heirs with Christ, the right of kinship, as the children of God. It is my desire to follow Christ’s example and imitate my Heavenly Father as well. I want people to look at me and say “Like Father, like son.”