Tag: Pam Stith

The Best Answer

One of my nieces, Pam Stith, told me this story.  Here goes:

I was in second grade when my Daddy [John F. Stith Jr.] decided to go back to college, to the University of Alabama, to finish his degree. We moved to Tuscaloosa into a small apartment in student housing. My little brother, Paul, was about two and was put to bed earlier than his big brother and sister. Some nights he had trouble going to sleep. He would call out from the back bedroom, “Daddy, I can’t go to sleep.”

Daddy would say, “Just close your eyes.”

In a minute Paul would say, “I can’t, I can’t close my eyes.”

John F. Stith Jr.
John F. Stith Jr.

Daddy would get up from his big red leather chair and walk back to the bedroom. He would lean over the side of the bed and tuck the blankets. Paul would close his eyes and Daddy would reach down and very gently touch Paul’s eyelids. Then Daddy would whisper.

“Your mama loves you. Your daddy loves you. Your brother loves you.  Your sister loves you. Your Grandmama loves you.”

And the listing would continue. If Daddy skipped anybody, Paul would ask, “What about Aunt Jane?”

“Your Aunt Jane loves you,” Daddy would say.  “Your Uncle John loves you.  Your cousin Alice loves you.”

When Daddy finished all the family, he would move on to the neighbors.  And every night he would finish with, “But Jesus loves you most of all.”

The university had converted an old hospital into student housing and the layout of the rooms was odd. The shower was made of tin and faced a back wall of the bathroom. One day when Daddy was taking a shower, he heard the bathroom door open and close. He knew someone had come in, but no one said anything, so he called out, “Who’s there?” No response. Louder, he said, “Who’s there?” No response. A third time he called out – this time sternly, “Who’s there?”

Paul Harrison Stith
Paul Harrison Stith

Paul was standing in the bathroom and had not uttered a sound. He thought he was in trouble, but he didn’t know why. He knew he needed an answer for his Daddy and a good one. Then he thought of it!

“It’s the boy that Jesus loves!”

Postscript: Paul Harrison Stith, the boy that Jesus loves, is now the pastor of Grace Heritage Church, a Baptist church in Auburn, Alabama.

Coming Monday: Time To Fess Up

 

 

 

 

Squelched

Hearts is my favorite card game but I play Rook every once in a while, usually at a family reunion or, in this case, at Snowbird.  And, truth be told, when my niece, Pam Stith, is my partner we usually win.

I don’t like playing with the 2’s, 3’s, and 4’s, but my son, Mark, and his friend, Conan Shearer, wanted to play with all the cards so Pam and I said OK, make yourselves happy.  Those cards don’t matter a whole lot anyway; when you play Rook nothing much matters but the Rook itself. 

Pam is a really good player and if we got the Rook as many times as they did, anywhere close to as many times, we’d win, regardless of how many cards we played with. Of that I was pretty certain.

Conan, L, and Mark Stith: they were dealt the Rook 7 out of 8 hands.
Conan Shearer, L, and Mark Stith: Rook magnets.

But we didn’t get the Rook at all. They got it all three hands and won the game with over 500 points to our whatever.

So, I said, OK, let’s take out the 2’s, 3’s, and 4’s and play again. And we did.

This time they got the Rook four of the five hands it took them to reach 500, and won again.

That’s when Conan said to me, as politely as can be, “Would you like to take out some more cards?”

Postscript: Shearer graduated from UNC and then earned an MBA and Master of Science in Information Management from Arizona  State University. He is now an executive at Exxon.  Whether he still gets the Rook seven out of eight hands is unknown.

Coming Monday:  Something Like?

The view from the top of Mark's tower.
The view from the top of Mark’s tower last week.

NOTE: Went to Snowbird again last week [Nov. 1-5], 11 of us, friends and family. Pitched some shoes, played some Hearts –but no Rook– and ate like royalty.