In Have a Little Faith, the newest nonfiction book by Mitch Albom who wrote Tuesdays with Morrie Albom shares the stories of two men with whom he has been intimately involved and whose lives have touched his own in a very deep way.  One was Albert Lewis, an elderly Jewish Rabbi and long time family friend from Mitch’s suburban hometown in New Jersey. The other is an inner-city pastor named Henry Covington who runs a homeless shelter in Detroit where Mitch resides today.  

In most ways Albert and Henry could not be more different - one being Jewish, the other Christian; one white, the other African-American; one an educated scholar, the other an ex-con; one serving in a middle-class suburb, the other in an inner city.  Both men’s lives have one thing in common, however, their deep religious faith and how that faith has profoundly impacted the lives of many others, not the least of whom was the book’s author.  Tee and I, too, were touched by their stories as we listened to the audio version of the book while driving in the car during our Thanksgiving holiday travels.  We even wept on several occasions. 

Because they’ve now been recorded in a book written by a well known best-selling author the stories of Albert Lewis’s and Henry Covington’s lives will become familiar to thousands if not millions of readers, as well they deserve to be.  Otherwise, their stories would probably remain as obscure as yours and mine.  But neither are their life stories any more profound or important than yours and mine - to someone.  I was reminded of this when I became a grandfather recalling how my own life has been impacted by my grandparents’ stories and their parents’ stories before them.  It is human nature that we are curious about where we came from and how those who came before us have influenced who we are.  

 ”To have lived is not enough,” says Samuel Beckett in Waiting for Godot.  “We have to talk about it.”  Beckett’s right I think, for it is only when we talk about life, telling our stories in some way, that our lives gain significance.  And our lives, yours and mine, ARE significant - to someone somewhere - every bit as much as Albert Lewis and Henry Covington. 

If I had not seen it firsthand I would never have believed it . . . the miraculous work of Rand and Colleen Southard in transforming the lives of many abused, abandoned, and severely learning disabled children through the residential treatment facility they founded and operated for many years.  Most of the children came to them as wards of the state, hopeless cases by our standards but not to Rand and Colleen.  Many arrived angry, frightened and untrusting of anyone.  Few had ever experienced knowing where their next meal would come from and would often stuff mashed potatoes into their pockets.  But Rand and Coleen provided these children something even more essential than mere basic food and shelter.  They gave them love, loving them as their own.  And it was through that love that their lives were transformed, many becoming productive adults. 

If I had not heard it firsthand with my own ears neither would I have believed the miraculous work of Lanell Armstrong, the pretty blond middle-class housewife who convinced her husband and children to abandon their comfortable lifestyle and move into an east Dallas barrio inhabited by guns, gangs and drugs where she brings children into her own home, feeds, encourages and loves them, saving them from the fate of their environment.  And it is through her deep passion and fearless dedication to the children within that neighborhood that lives have been transformed and many have become model productive citizens. 

If I had not witnessed firsthand the miraculous works of my friends Lanell, Rand and Colleen I would probably have written off the new movie, “The Blind Side” starring Sandra Bullock as just another Hollywood embellishment created to sell tickets.  But embellished or not, “The Blind Side” is no fairytale.  Based on a true story it is about an upper middle-class family taking in a homeless street kid and transforming his life.  (I’ll leave it to you to see the movie.)  I would not have believed it myself except that I’ve witnessed similar stories firsthand through the courage, compassion, and selfless love of people like Lanell, Rand and Colleen.  Their lives make a difference - and so do ours if we will do even a fraction of what they do.

For my birthday I had requested that Tee make me a carrot layer cake which she agreed to do.  It’s my favorite.  And though she’s done it many times before this time as luck would have it the cakes stuck to the pans and came out all crumbled and broken up.  I could hear the groans and oh-no’s from the other room.  Uh-oh, I thought, I had better not go in there.  Sometime later, though, she called for me and when I entered the kitchen there she stood grinning from ear to ear holding up what may have been the most beautiful birthday cake I’ve ever had. 

Have you ever watched Tiger Wood play golf?  What’s fascinating is that as great a golfer as he is even Tiger Wood winds up in sand-traps, behind trees and buried in the rough like any common duffer on the course would do.  The difference is in his ability to recover, to make the most amazing shots you’ve ever seen out of the most difficult of circumstances.  That is the main difference more than any other factor, so they say, that sets a professional golfer apart from an amateur.  The same probably holds true for any sport. 

Excellence seldom occurs from everything coming out right, rather it is the result of one’s ability to recover from mishaps and mistakes.  That’s not only true in sports but in every worthwhile endeavor you can name.  Successful businesses, enduring marriages, happy families, master works of art, and even birthday cakes, look closely and you’ll see that each one is a patchwork of failures, mistakes and mishaps that have somehow been miraculously transformed into something successful, enduring, happy or beautiful. 

Most people would have given up on those stuck, crumbled, broken up cakes and simply thrown them away, but not Tee.  Instead she turned a mess into a masterpiece - and that’s the sign of a real pro.

The late comedian George Burns who remained active up until the very end of his life at age 100 often boasted jokingly about his daily consumption of a good cigar and a martini.  Wouldn’t we all love to shatter the longevity odds as he did and still indulge in our favorite unhealthy habit on a daily basis - whether it be ice cream, Snicker bars, chips, sodas, or even martinis and cigars?  Few of us can count on such luck I’m afraid.  The best we can hope for is that occasional moderate imbibing might result in minimal harm.  During a rare serious moment in his autobiography even George Burns admitted that there were probably other factors that attributed to his longevity besides his daily dose of martinis and cigars.  One of those had to do with his response to worry.  An example he shared occurred during a time in his late eighties when he was facing open-heart bypass surgery.  When asked if he was worried about the surgery he responded “no”, that was the doctor’s problem not his. 

I grew up in a farming community and let me assure you that farmers have a lot to worry about.  They work long, hard, tedious hours improving their property, maintaining machinery, learning new methods, preparing and planting their fields, then nurturing their crops to ensure they are not overtaken by weeds or eaten by insects.  The remainder of the process, though, depends on the forces of nature over which they have no control, leaving plenty of opportunity for worry.  Yet many of the seasoned farmers I knew learned to handle it the same way as George Burns.  Once they had done all they could do it became the problem of the One who controls nature not theirs.  Thus most of them managed to live long fulfilling lives in spite of the uncertainties of their profession. 

No one’s life is exempt from problems and concerns.  Yet if we allow ourselves to be overcome by worry it can immobilize us; it can damage our health, consume our thoughts, disrupt our productivity, negatively impact the way we treat others, and reduce our ability to trust in God and in others.  Or we can work hard and do all we can then let the rest of it become the doctor’s problem, or nature’s problem - or better yet, the problem of the One who controls all things.  When we do we still may not live as long as George Burns, but there’s a good chance we will live as well as he did.

Our two little granddaughters, Madeline and Zoey both eighteen months, are not yet verbal.  But they began communicating at a very early age thanks to their parents teaching them how to sign with their hands certain messages such as “want more” and “all done”.  What’s even more impressive and of utmost importance as far as I’m concerned is that “please” and “thank you” are also part of their sign-vocabulary.  Now mind you they have to be prompted to say please and thank you as small children often are, but it is nevertheless a top priority in their upbringing.  

Many years ago in my former business career I became intrigued by a then popular book entitled Customers for Life by Carl Sewell, owner of a number of successful luxury automobile dealerships in Dallas and across Texas and Louisiana.  In the book he shared his ongoing search for ways of treating customers in such a way that they would become “customers for life”.  So convincing was the book to me that I became a disciple of Sewell’s methods, applying them in my own business.  In fact, for a while it became the mantra of the corporate business unit I managed that everyone should treat people in such a way that they too would become customers for life. 

It’s a simple concept actually, just offer people excellent service, genuine personal attention, be polite, and say “please” and “thank you” - basic common courtesy, the Golden Rule.  If you need proof that it works just look what it has done for the Sewell family who through thick and thin has thrived in the luxury car business for almost a hundred years. 

Our grandchildren may never become successful business people like Carl Sewell, but the more they develop a sense of authentic gratitude and learn to express that gratitude by simply saying “please” and “thank you” the relationships they develop in life are far more likely become “relationships for life”.  So, I say “thank you” to their parents for teaching them one of life’s most important lessons, and encourage them to “please” keep up the good work.