Just one more thing: Great reward in store for faith, working hard
When I was only 4 or 5 years old, my dad used to take me on trips with him in a big hauling truck. He was at that time in the roofing business. Whenever we'd stop at a truck stop cafe and gas station or when the trip was over, I'd crawl over to his side of the cab and look down in anticipation. My dad would stand on the ground several feet below me and say," Jump, son!" I'd spring off that seat, give it my best swan dive form, and drop into my father's arms. Did I ever worry about whether or not he would catch me? Never! He was my dad! He loved me. He provided for me, disciplined me and taught me. The farthest thing from my mind was the fear that one day he'd step aside and let me splat on the ground and say, "The joke's on you, son!"
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