Casting Your Bread

Ecclesiastes 11:1

“Cast your bread up on the waters, for you will find it after many days.”

I’m certain I wasn’t thinking about this verse on a hot July afternoon 36 years ago, when my front doorbell rang in Abingdon, Virginia. I was just hoping it didn’t wake the 14-month-old and the 3-year-old. I was also wondering when my wife was going to be home from a shopping trip with her mother. When she left that morning, she reminded me that husbands don’t babysit their own children; they do their duty as a father. I always hated it when she was right, which was 99% of the time. 

Back to the front door. When I opened the front door, there they stood: a dad, a nine-year-old son, a six-year-old son, and a three-year-old daughter; the mother was waiting in the truck. They were selling firewood because that’s how they made a living. I was a junior accountant in those days, making about $180 per week, and cutting my own firewood to heat my house. I told him I wasn’t interested and he said, “thank you,” and then they began to walk away. Don’t ask why, but I called after him to wait and then asked how much. I think it was $40 for a load of wood and I said, “Ok, I’ll take it.” 

Then I watched as this family from Lodi, Virginia, living in a hand hewn log house with outdoor plumbing, began to work as a team. I heard his children say “Yes sir” and “Yes ma’am.” I was so impressed that I became an unpaid salesperson for them, selling first to my brother, Phil, and then my neighbors. I would borrow Phil’s truck on Saturdays and take my neighbors to Lodi, where we got to know this remarkable family.  Here are some of the lessons they taught us:

• Whatever work you do, do your best; there’s dignity in work 
• Good manners are not restricted to economic status    
• Academic and athletic success can be achieved by anyone who is doing their best, even if they live in a hand hewn log cabin in Lodi
• Heartbreak comes to all of us and many times it’s unexpected

I think you can already tell how they taught us the first two lessons by example, but the others came over time. 

One Saturday, I was returning from Lodi with two neighbors and a load of wood. Ed was a retired consultant on airport management for the United Nations. When I first approached him about this family, he told me he didn’t believe in charity, but that didn’t last long. My other neighbor was a pediatrician from Richlands who had retired to Abingdon. On this Saturday Ed and the doctor were talking about how the Lodi family was so extraordinary. The two were puzzled about how they could be so articulate and well-mannered, until the doctor came up with the answer. He surmised that the mother must have some aristocratic heritage. I promise, I didn’t laugh out loud. You see, just because someone is poor, they’re not necessarily crude or ignorant. I think we’ve seen plenty examples in recent days where people of wealth are crude. 

Before that day was finished, Ed and the doctor had promised all of the children $5 for every “A” on their report card. I’m not sure how much that amounted to, but both boys were eventually granted academic and athletic scholarships to college. The oldest son attended the University of Virginia and the youngest went to Emory and Henry.

One day Ed called me over to his driveway to talk with him and the the oldest son. This man who didn’t believe in charity had taken the young man to an expensive men’s clothing store to outfit him for school. I was tempted to remind him of his thoughts on charity, but didn’t, because I was just happy to see such wonderful generosity.

The last lesson was a hard one. The family’s young daughter was killed in an accident around the age of five. As a result, we learned that grief is hard and comes to all of us. We saw the examples of a good pastor in Bristol—Lester MacKinnon—and the kindness of my brother Phil, neither of whom knew the family, but made sure the funeral expenses were paid. 

My family and I moved to Indiana soon after the oldest son started college and I haven’t seen or heard from the Lodi family in more than 28 years.    

So how is it that this true story came back to me today, December 28, 2017 and why did I think of bread casting? As I was helping a client at Faith in Action, I received a wonderful gift from God. This client from Damascus didn’t want to be there. He was embarrassed and wanted to be a good provider for his family, but life hadn’t been kind to him. As we were taking care of his electric bill, I made some conversation to put him and his wife at ease. I asked if she was a native of Damascus and she said yes. Then she said, “Maybe you know my family...” I thought, “How in the world would I know your family?” But she told me her maiden name and—you may have guessed it—the Lodi father was her uncle and the boys were her cousins. I told her I did know them, and asked about the family. It turns out the oldest son graduated from UVA and is a missionary for his church, while the youngest is doing well in his career. Both parents are fine and still very active.  

More than 36 years ago, I cast $40 (which was a lot of money at that time) and today it came back to me. What would this family have achieved without Ed, the doctor, Lester MacKinnon, and Phil? Only God knows, but today He let me find a nugget. Some might say my conversation at Faith in Action was coincidental, but I say it was a gift from a God who cares for me. I believe every day is a good day for bread casting. You never know how or when it will return to you, but I assure you it will.