Myron Speaks

One of the great memories for me as a child was Main Street in Mt. Vernon, Kentucky.  To most this would be just another sleepy town, slowly succumbing to a World fed by Interstates, allowing quick exits and entries.  To me, Main Street in Mt. Vernon represented my people, past and present.  

There were two stores on that beautiful street the were especially favorites.  Hiatt’s 5 & 10 and Cox Hardware. Hiatt’s being a great source for candy and all kinds of low cost treasures.  Cox was living history to me.  As you entered the store and that door bell (literally a bell hung above the door that was moved to jingle as the door was opened and closed) would announce your entrance.  You were greeted by the creaking of wood floors beneath your feet as you walked in.  The store framed a pot belly stove used for heating and a sitting bench where good natured and heated discussions were the norm every time I entered that store.  Cox Hardware released the imagination of a little boy and the testosterone of a budding young man.

This particular day, my dad had decided that I was old enough to have a pocket knife.  So I think I was around 5 or 6 years old.  Yes helicopter moms and dads, I knew my way around a knife, hatchet, single-shot .22 (with supervision), swinging on vines over bluffs, riding a pony without a helmet (helmet ?) and more by this age in life.  And I survived!  Anyway, I digress, today was a big day in the life of this young boy.

My dad had mentioned a Barlow Knife that seemed to be the right of passage for a boy in Appalachian Ky.  They were big, single-bladed, sturdy, easy to open and close and still fit in a little boy’s pocket.  I had other ideas.  I had grown up watching my dad, grandfathers, uncles and most men pull out and use sleek Case brand knives for uses as varied as peeling an apple, to stripping insulation off a wire for electrical connection, to passing time whittling or cutting a slim branch to be used as a switch.  Let’s not focus on the last item that I witnessed too often.  “Those who spare the rod of discipline hate their children. Those who love their children care enough to discipline them.”  Proverbs 13:24 (NLT)

As we perused those knife displays on the counter of that old hardware store, my eyes were drawn to a sleek little Case 3-blade knife that my dad let me ask to look at.  As it was handed to me the first thing dad said was, “be careful, it’s a Case and will be sharp.”  He was right!  As I opened and closed those blades, my dad spoke to the guy helping us and the people all around because we were Mullins’ and most people in Mt. Vernon were relatives.  Or so, I thought.

As I allowed those sharp blades to snap back into place as I closed them, tragedy struck!  The clip blade (the longest blade with a sharp point) caught my left thumb right on the side of the middle knuckle.  “Oh no,” was my first reaction recognizing this would likely sideline my Case knife dream and maybe my pocket knife dream overall.  As quickly as possible, I shoved my left hand into my jeans pocket and handed the knife back to the clerk.  My dad then said, “let’s take a look at the Barlow Knife,” to which when handed to me I looked at it holding with my right hand, simply saying ‘it’s okay.’  “Open it up,” dad said.  “See if you can open and close it okay.”  

And then it happened, I removed my left hand revealing a bloody and bleeding hand to a shocked clerk and a remarkably calm father.  Dad simply took out his white handkerchief that was always in his pocket and had me wrap my hand.  He asked me how it happened and when I told him he simply said, “we’ll take the Barlow Knife.”  

I couldn’t believe it.  He wasn’t mad.  He didn’t crush the dream of my first pocket knife. He stayed the course that was his plan from the moment we walked in.  He let me deviate and explore knowing I was not ready for that sharp, small Case knife needing hands grown accustomed to handling a more simple knife.  We left Cox’s with Barlow Knife in its box, in a bag.  Left hand wrapped in a white handkerchief beautifully stained ‘life-lesson’ red.

As I recall that special day, I cannot help but draw comparisons to my father in Heaven whose plans are perfect and in place.  He allows me to explore other paths filled with frustration and failure, all leading to his ‘next’ in my life of growth and gain.  You see, God loved me so much that he gave me a flawed earthly father who loved me so much that he allowed me to try and fail, understanding the value of the lesson was often learning enough.

“Give instruction to a wise man, and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man, and he will increase in learning.”  Proverbs 9:9 (ESV)

I still have that old Barlow Knife.  I have lost dozens of sleek Case knifes through my lifetime, but the bulky, ugly, simple Barlow Knife is priceless to my heart.

Be blessed this Christmas Season.  What is priceless is often the cheapest, ugliest and least attractive.