Prior to leaving I was advised that I would need to wear close-toed leather shoes at school. Selecting an older pair was suggested since they would get beat up. As I rummaged around in my closet, I found an old pair of brown shoes that were my father’s, Edward’s. He was my greatest influence, the best teacher I've known. He died last year. I know he would love to come to Africa, to be here with me as I undertake what may be the best thing I ever do in teaching.
So now I am wearing them as I meet my co-teacher, I wear them as I go the orphanage, I wear them as I go to the seminary where I will also teach. I am sure it would please him. Coincidently, my co-teacher, like me, is 57. His name is also Edward, Adonga Edward. Adonga means “Father has died.” The head of the school’s Acoli name is Otim which means “Born of the wilderness.” I tell them my name is Tim and am told it means Wilderness. Anyone who knew me when, knows that I was in a wilderness of my own making for much of my life. My Father, Edward, played a major part in leading me out of that. Now I am come to Uganda, and a fatherless man named Edward and a man named “Of the Wilderness” will serve as my guides.
It appears I did not need the brown shoes after all.
Oh, To walk in ones fathers shoes is a heavy burden, especially...when in the back of your mind you are still living up to his ideals. Polish them, or clean them as best you can, for not every son would be so lucky to walk in "those shoes"!
ReplyDeleteDid you know my father. If you did, you know it is no burden trying to live up to his ideals--instead the striving is a gift
ReplyDelete