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The sun is just beginning to warm the early morning
as we cast our fishing lines into the water.
In truth, Jim casts into the water, I cast into
the weeds and Nathan loses interest in casting altogether
and begins having a great time playing with the
worms. True to his word, our friend has taken Nate
and me on our first father-son fishing trip and
it's way cool.
After a time, another father and his two sons pass
by and prepare to fish 30 yards or so down the shore.
Immediately, the day takes on a different tenor
as the father lays into the older boy, who appears
to be all of 10 years old: "Don't cast like
that ... Are you stupid ... You can't get anything
right ... I should have left you with your mother
... Just get out of the way ... Don't be a baby!"
The boy takes in the verbal battering and tries
harder to please his dad. The other son simply,
and wisely, is staying quiet and out of dad's (harm's)
way.
I ask Jim if he can hear the father. He listens
and we begin to ponder what action, if any, we should
take. We fish and ponder, fish and ponder. As I
continue to consider my options I see Jim drop his
pole, turn and walk toward the man and his sons.
He stops a safe distance away and says to the man,
"Hey, did your father talk to you the way you're
talking to your son?" The man's immediate response
is, "As a matter of fact he did." To which
Jim replies, "Well, maybe you could quit shaming
your son that way." Complete silence covers
the pond. Jim turns, walks back to his spot, recovers
his fishing pole and casts his line into the water,
under the sober gaze of the father.
Much to my surprise, the father says nothing more
to Jim. Instead, he turns back to his children.
Within a few minutes he is helping both of his sons
learn how to cast their lines and reel in the fish
they catch; with no more shaming words; I mean literally
none. I later hear him praise the previously tormented
boy on the size of his catch. After a time Jim,
again, reels in his line and steps back toward the
man and his sons. Jim asks to see their catch, compliments
the boys for their efforts and makes brief, easy
conversation with the father on the merits of various
fishing techniques.
Later, as we leave, I see two boys smiling; three
counting Nathan. In a simple act of loving confrontation,
Jim has touched all of our lives. Will this father
change? He already has. Will the change last? Maybe,
maybe not. At the very least he has been given a
better way and his sons, for moments, have seen
the loving father that lives inside the man-child
who scares them.
As for our little troop, we catch no fish that day,
but are filled with the promise of another morning.
"Jim, can we take a boat next time? ... Sure
we can, Nate."
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