Don Wildmon

AFA/AFR founder

September 1995 – My father died last month.

He was a Christian who lived his faith. Basically, he tried to do what he felt was right. He treated people like he wanted to be treated. Of course he had a few individual quirks as we all do. But he was a good man, a Christian man.

Daddy was 91. Mama died three years ago. She was 87. They shared the same birthday, although he was a year older. They were married for 67 years before Mama died. Sure, they had their differences. But they kept their home together, and their marriage together.

I have had time to do some thinking lately. The death of a parent has a way of making one think about life. What it is all about. What matters. What doesn’t. It is something each of us needs to do often.

I realize now how fortunate I have been in life. I was raised in a Christian home by two Christian parents. Most people in this world don’t have that advantage. My parents sacrificed for their children. I was a grown man before I learned that women bought new dresses. Yes, our home was poor in material things. If I wanted something, I worked for it. That meant I kept my “wants” to a minimum. I never knew, in growing up, that we were poor. I never thought of myself as being disadvantaged.

When I was a kid growing up, drugs were something you purchased at the drug store when you were sick. I remember where I was when I asked Daddy about drinking. He told me he didn’t and why he didn’t. His answer was good enough for me.

Mama and Daddy taught us their Christian faith by living it. When I was a small child Mama would read me Bible stories before bed. I remember one Christmas when my gift was a Bible story book, a small amount of candy, an orange and a few nuts. I can’t remember either of them setting me down and talking to me about their Christian faith. It was just taken for granted.

Come Sunday, we went to Sunday School and church twice. As I grew I took part in the activities for each age group. It came naturally. I remember leaving one Sunday morning following Sunday School, skipping worship. Mama talked to me when they came home. I didn’t skip any more.

There is much I could say about Daddy, and Mama, in this column. But that isn’t the point. They have lived their lives.

I just wanted to publicly thank God for two Christian parents who loved their children, sacrificed for them, and lived their lives as examples. I am a very fortunate person.

To those parents reading this, or those who will be parents, let me give you some advice. If you want to give your children the most precious and eternal gift possible, give them the example of a Christian life lived out at home and in the world.

Nothing in this whole world has been more influential in my life than that. And it can never, ever be taken from me.

One day, when it comes my time to leave this world, I’m going to sit down with Mama and Daddy and tell them again – as I did several times when they were living, “Thanks for the gift."