In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Last week I read a story that someone wrote nearly forty years ago. It’s the story of a promise made by a father to his son. This story takes place on the morning of that devastating earthquake which destroyed much of northern Armenia in early December, 1988, killing tens of thousands of people in less than four minutes.
When the earthquake occurred, a father rushed through the chaotic streets to reach his son’s elementary school only to find that it had completely collapsed. After his initial shock, he remembered a promise he made to his son on the day he was born and repeated that promise often to his son. “No matter what,” he said, “I will always be there for you!” Tears began to fill his eyes and as he stood there in front of what used to be a school, he kept remembering his promise to his son. He eventually composed himself and went to the side of the building where he knew his son’s classroom was located and began digging through the rubble with his bare hands.
While he was frantically digging, firefighters arrived and police officers arrived. They urged him to get away simply because it was too dangerous. Soon other parents arrived, all equally upset and they urged him to stop saying, “There is nothing you can do. You are just going to make it harder for yourself and for all of us. They are gone. They are all gone.” But to each of those people, he asked the same question. “Are you going to help me or just stand there?” He went back to digging for his son stone by stone. He dug for eight hours and twelve hours and on into the next day. Then after about a day and a half, nearly exhausted, he pulled back one more stone and heard his son’s voice. He called out his son’s name, “Armand!” He heard back a frail voice asking “Hayrig?!? You came. I knew you’d come.” Apparently, when the building collapsed, a wedge was created that shielded the children and kept them safe.
Today, being Father’s Day, I wanted to share that story with you because it is beautiful and it reminds me of another story I heard over the years about “why” we stop each year to honor our fathers. This story is called “Gentle Hands” and reads like this. “I look at my father’s rough hands, worn by time and strong from experience, and I am reminded of the life he has lived. He worked hard for his home, sacrificed for his family and earned everything he ever had, but beneath that rough exterior were “gentle hands” that picked us up when were afraid, carried us in rough times, pulled us up when we fell down, patted us on the back when we achieved success and hugged us each night before we went to bed as he told us how much he loved us.”
This tribute is written by a daughter who reminisced about her elder father. She summed up her father’s love for his family by looking at his gentle but worn hands and realizing that behind those hands lies the story of their family. He raised his family and nurtured his children and kept them all safe with his hands. For all that her father sacrificed for his family, she honors him with her words.
Today, being Father’s Day, I thought I would share these stories because they brought me such pleasure. They are the stories of a lifetime of trust and love and devotion from the heart of fathers. So, on this Father’s Day, let us leave here thinking about the lessons we received from our fathers and thank God. Let us each ask ourselves: “What is it about your father that stands out in your mind?” Is it or was it his hands, his laugh, his drive, his faith, his dedication, his wisdom or was it simply his presence in your life?
We honor our fathers today. So, Happy Father’s Day to all our fathers and may they love always be felt in our homes and if your father is watching from above, may he feel honored today for the place he holds in your heart.
Amen.