Faith Lift: My Father’s Guitar

This Sunday we will take time to express our appreciation for fathers.  The idea for creating a day for children to honor their fathers began in Spokane, Washington. A woman by the name of Sonora Smart Dodd thought of the idea for Father’s Day while listening to a Mother’s Day sermon in 1909.  This was a case where mothers took the lead.   

Having been raised by her father after her mother died, Sonora wanted her father to know how special he was to her. It was her father that made all the parental sacrifices and was, in the eyes of his daughter, a courageous, selfless, and loving man.  Her father raised her and her siblings after her mother died in childbirth, and she thought that fathers should get recognition, too. So she asked the minister of the church if he would deliver a sermon honoring fathers on her father’s birthday, which was coming up in June, and the minister did. Sonora’s father was born in June, so she chose to hold the first Father’s Day celebration in Spokane, Washington on the 19th of June, 1910.

In 1924 President Calvin Coolidge proclaimed the third Sunday in June as Father’s Day.  I didn’t know this, but I discovered that roses are the Father’s Day flowers.  I always thought roses were the kiss-and-make-up flowers.  Roses were what I bought when I needed to apologize. 

I the truth be told, many fathers would be more honored to have a “Get out of church free card” on Father’s Day.  Many of them would rather be playing golf or napping on the couch or maybe even going fishing.  So, my hat’s off to those of you who will come to sit in church or at least  … watch church on this Father’s Day.

 For our 25th wedding anniversary I wrote a song on the guitar that was my Father’s. It was the guitar I didn’t learn to play on. The strings were too far off the frets.  The steel strings hurt my fingers.

My Father told me that he bought his guitar in a hock shop.  It was painted white with the name “Tex” on it in black.  He stripped the white paint off the guitar and underneath was this bird’s eye maple.   (I hope the guitar didn’t once belong to Tex Ritter). 

For Christmas when I was 19 my father took me to a hock shop in Wichita Falls and bought me a nylon string guitar. I learned to play. I sometimes wonder if the hock shop in Wichita Falls was the one where he bought his “Tex” guitar. 

Of course, I have since learned to play his guitar. Here’s the link to the song, My Father’s Guitar. 

Happy Father’s Day.

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