There’s no telling how many happy hours that plane logged in my hands. You would have thought that it was made of metal to exact scale.
No gift my Dad ever gave me as a child surprised me more or made me as happy as that airplane. As I look back on it now through a father’s eyes, it becomes even more special. In spite of the limitations, Daddy managed to fashion with his hands a present for his son – a gift from his heart.
Sometimes as a dad I’ve fretted when I couldn’t give my own children the gifts that I knew they wanted and needed. But the memory of the airplane my father made reassures me that when we lovingly whittle gifts for our children out of what we have, neither the price tag nor the trademark really matters.
And even more important for our children, such parental love plants in them the seeds of faith in a Heavenly Father who can take whatever is available in their lives and handcraft it into the priceless gift of a meaningful and eternal life.
John Paul Carter is a Weatherford resident whose column, “Notes From the Journey,” is a regular feature of the Democrat.