Perhaps They Are Not Stars After All . . .
By Jon Walker, F268778
FMCA National President
December, to me, is special because I am able to devote time to just sitting back and watching the magic of Christmas take over in our family. When I was younger, I rushed around going to Christmas concerts with the kids, working at church bazaars, buying the “right” presents on my children’s lists, decorating the house for Christmas — all while working 12 hours a day keeping my business operating.
Sondra had to do the same things, but I know she did much more than I did. I really wonder how we got it all done. It is so nice now to be able to watch our kids do the same things we did years ago, but from a different perspective!
In addition to sitting back and watching all of the December events happening around me, I also have been thinking about the wonderful times I have had traveling in my motorhome. The most cherished memory I have is the time I spent traveling with my father.
For the last five years of my father’s life, he traveled with me to our FMCA summer conventions. We usually planned to take a month or so for these trips. During these times, I felt so blessed to be able to spend this time with him.
What I remember the most was one particular trip to Redmond, Oregon. We were staying overnight in an RV park somewhere in the middle of Montana. There was no one else in this park, which was out in the middle of nowhere. The only lights shining were the stars in the sky. Being from the Midwest, I had never experienced the three-dimensional effect of the Milky Way. The stars were everywhere, and it seemed as though we could reach out and touch them. My dad loved to sit outside at night on these trips and sip wine.
One particular night, I got up the courage to ask him this: “Dad, do you ever think about dying?” There was a short pause in the silence of the night, and then he answered me: “Jon, at my age [he was 80], you think about dying a lot. But are you really asking me if I am AFRAID of dying? The answer is NO. Look up at these brilliant stars. I am absolutely positive that whoever made these stars you are seeing tonight has a plan for me . . . so, no, I am not afraid of dying.”
He then went on to ask me a question. “Do you remember when you were a Cub Scout and we went on a campout? We slept out in an open field on an air mattress, and you told me you were scared of the dark. I took your little hand in my big hand, and I told you to look up at the beauty of the stars above, and then I said to you: ‘Do not be afraid; the stars will light your way.’”
I told him I did remember that. He then said: “These same stars above us here in Montana will light our way.”
This brings to mind an old Eskimo legend that says, “Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy.”
That simple lesson has stayed with me all of these years, and for some reason, every time I look up at the stars, I think of that wonderful trip through Montana with my father.
Past FMCA national president Charlie Schrenkel wrote a poem in 2000 that still holds special meaning for me, since I grew up and live in the North. I thought I would share the first and last verses of it here, as I did several years ago when I was a guest writer in this column:
“Snowflakes flutter in breathless air,
And settle down without a care
Upon the brown and tarnished leaves,
Which form a carpet ’neath the trees.
And all across this fairy land,
The fields, the hills, where pine trees stand.
The quiet of this winter’s night,
Brings peace on earth by morning light.”
Sondra and I, as well as national senior vice president Rett Porter and his wife, Claire, would like to take this time to wish our Christian friends a “Merry Christmas” and all of our other friends “Happy Holidays” . . . and a very Happy New Year!
Until next month, don’t forget that it’s still all about having fun!