A few days ago one of my friends in another state sent me something titled, “It Can’t Be My Boy.” For many people, this contains a very sobering message. Since I started writing this column, I have learned that you can be “sobered up” without having ever been drunk. Unfortunately, too many people are “sobered up” by something that happens to a loved one that has far greater consequences than simply having too much to drink.
As I have gotten older, from time to time I look back over my own life and, like all men, I realize that I was once a boy. In those days we did not have the myriad social problems that young people face today, but still I wonder at how many of us made it. I think it’s because God looks out for those who really need another chance. It is often said that girls are special, and while I don’t want to be too emotional, I think boys are special, too, especially those terrific grandsons we are blessed to have. This gives rise to the old saying, “It’s a miracle how imperfect parents can produce perfect grandchildren.”
This message is for parents who have sons, and for those fine young men who read my column. Here is something written by Allen Beck that you may find interesting. He said, “A boy has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a firecracker, and when he makes something he has five thumbs on each hand.”
Now, I’m not sure this would describe all boys, but it does serve to illustrate how special boys really are. If you happen to be a man who was fortunate enough to grow up in a Godly home, to have loving and caring parents and have used this foundation and the opportunities it has afforded to become a great success, then you know how blessed you really are. Please contrast this scenario with the article I mentioned earlier titled, “It Can’t Be My Boy” and see if it would apply to you.
It begins, “Once there was a little boy. When he was 3 weeks old his parents turned him over to a baby sitter. When he was 2 they dressed him up like a cowboy and gave him a gun. When he was 3 everybody said, ‘How cute!’ as he went lisping a beer commercial jingle. When he was 6, his father dropped him off at Sunday school on his way to the golf course. When he was 8, his parents gave him a BB gun to shoot sparrows. His aim was bad, so he learned to shoot windshields by himself.
“When he was 10 he spent afternoons squatting at the drug store newsstand reading comic books. His mother wasn’t home and his father was too busy. When he was 13 he told his parents other boys stayed out as late as they wanted to, so they said he could, too. It was easier that way. When he was14 they gave him a deadly two-ton machine, wrangled a license for him to drive and told him to be careful. When he was15, the police called his house one night and said, ‘We have your boy, he’s in trouble’. Screamed the father, ‘IT CAN’T BE MY BOY!,’ but it was.”
Here is a comment about this article that will serve to place things in the proper perspective. It is never my motive in writing this column to make any person feel guilty. In the long run, this kind of motivation will accomplish very little. I just want these thoughts to remind all of us parents just how important our children really are.
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(Editor’s Note: Jim Davidson’s new book, “Your Future Begins Today” is destined to become a New York Times Best Seller. Get your copy at www.jimdavidsonnsc.com. He is giving a good portion of book sales to begin Bookcase Literacy Projects in other communities all across the nation.)