When I was: Four years old: My daddy can do anything.

When I was: Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.

When I was: Six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.

When I was: Eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.

When I was: Ten years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up, things were sure different.

When I was: Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.

When I was: Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.

When I was: Twenty-one years old: Him? He's hopelessly out of date.

When I was: Twenty-five  years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.

When I was: Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.

When I was: Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.

When I was: Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.

When I was: Fifty years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him. 

From Wit and Wisdom


Everyone at the State University knew that Donner Hall had the best parties. All-night dancing and beer guzzling attracted the largest weekend crowds by far - especially on the notorious second floor. By midnight every Friday and Saturday, the entire second floor was three inches deep in smashed beer cans, empty wine bottles, and stale potato chips.

But by about 7:00 a.m. the next morning, all of the garbage was removed. The second floor residents assumed the conscientious school janitors came bright and early, before anyone woke up, to sweep up the mess.

Early one Saturday morning, Chris, still hung over from Friday night's party, stumbled out of his bed to head for the bathroom. Noticing a freshly vacuumed second floor, he mumbled to himself, "I guess the janitors came early again to get rid of the mess."

On reaching the bathroom, however, his nose warned him the mess wasn't completely eliminated. A trail of vomit soiled the bathroom floor, ending at the point where someone was just then mopping it up. Chris thought to himself, I'm glad the janitor is doing the dirty work so we don't have to.

At the sound of Chris's shuffling, the supposed janitor looked up. Shocked, Chris realized the person mopping up the vomit was Marco, his next-door neighbor.

"Marco, man, what are you doing?" Chris asked.

Marco answered simply, "I'm cleaning up."

"Why? You weren't even at the party last night."

"Because I'm a Christian."

No janitor had ever cared enough to clean up every Monday morning. It had been Marco the whole time.

Marco's model of servant leadership is required of all who follow of Jesus. In what ways have you shown yourself to be willing to serve others - to do what Jesus would do, even if nobody knows it's you doing it? 

By Wayne Rice

2000 Jon Joaquin. All rights reserved.