Questing Parson

Letter To A Granddaughter On Election Day

Dear Ansley,

I wanted to write and let you know about something I just did, something that was really important. I voted. Yes, I voted once again. I've been making a habit of doing that since 1960. Every two years beginning that year I've marched myself off to the polling place and cast my vote for the candidates I thought would best serve the interests of our country. The last seven times I voted I also cast a ballot for the candidate that I thought would best secure your future. Yesterday was significant. It's significant because the next time there's an election for the President of the United States, you, too, can vote to secure your future.

That's why I'm writing. I've never asked much of you over the years of your young life. In fact, your mother says all I do is give things to you and your sisters. It's time for you to give me a little payback. You can do that by taking out your smart phone right now. Click on your calendar. Go to August, 4, 2015. Make a notation on that day that reads: Register to Vote! On that day you will be old enough to register to vote in the next presidential election. And vote in that election you should do.

Voting is important, Ansley. By exercising your right to vote you can have an influence on the path of this nation in our relationship with other nations, in the manner this country provides for the unfortunate as well as the fortunate. By exercising your right to vote you determine who represents your interest in the halls of Congress, at the state capitol, and in the county commission meetings. By exercising your right to vote you have something to say about the war making powers of the country, the speed limit on the roads, whether or not the pot holes on those roads get patched. By exercising your right to vote you determine the quality of education your children, my grandchildren, receive. In short, sweetheart, by exercising your right to vote you will be making your mark upon the future your children will possess.

So, you will be doing me a great favor if you will mark your calendar now to register to vote in 2015. Getting you to promise to vote is the best thing I can ever give your children.

I do have to warn you, however, that voting can sometimes be frustrating. Sometimes the person you vote for does not get elected. Sometimes the other candidate gets elected. Don't let that discourage you. Even if the other candidate gets elected, that candidate will know you're watching every move and you'll be back at the polls the next time around. In that way voting is a brake on the excesses of that other candidate.

And, should your candidate win, do not gloat. For the winner is also the representative of those other voters. That's the beauty of our system. Once the candidate is elected that candidate becomes the representative of us all.

As I write this, I don't know whether my presidential candidate won or lost. I won't know that for a few more hours. But I do know: Whomever is elected will be my President as well as the President of the others. And giving allegiance to the one elected is the American way – one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Expanded Horizons

The parson and Gina sat on the church's front porch steps. Her mother had called to apologize she'd had car trouble and was running late.

“I don't know if I can handle all the pressure, Parson,” said Gina, an ninth grader who seemed, in the parson's mind, to be a great big bunch of potentiality.

“What kind of pressure is on you?”

“Well, grades for one thing. I didn't realize that high school would be so much harder than before. But it is. Mom says it's because I'm taking advanced placement classes.”

“I would think that would definitely make your classes harder,” the parson said with an inside smile.

“My Aunt Glenda said I ought to drop out of the advanced classes, but, you see, Parson, if I do that it will hurt my chances of getting into a good college. And I've got to get into a good college. I have to get out of this place.”

“You have to get out of this place?”

“I do. Everybody around here goes to a local college or the tech school. Then they marry their boyfriend. They have babies and the next thing you know their babies are going to a local school and the whole thing just starts over again. That's not going to happen to me.”

The parson didn't say anything. Gina didn't seem to need a comment.

“Look, Parson, I don't hate this place, but, you know what I mean. You've lived all over the place. I bet if you went to a nice restaurant you'd know what fork to use when. Do you know what I mean?”

The parson didn't say anything. He nodded.

“Do you remember when Ms. Parson took us on that trip to Mexico? I'll never forget when we stopped in New Orleans. Oh, my gosh! I don't know what the name of that restaurant was but the food was wonderful. And the people, all the different people. There were so many accents. You know what I noticed most of all? What I noticed most of all was the smells. Did you know different towns smell different? I didn't until then. So, anyway, while we were working on building that church building down in Mexico I told Ms. Parson I wanted to see more places and meet more people than my parents and grandparents have.”

“I remember that trip,” said the parson. “Seems to me you and Ms. Parson took an extra day getting home.”

“We did! We did! Do you know why? The reason we took an extra day … oh, you know why; she called you … anyway … she we stopped in Houston. We went shopping there and she took me to another really, really restaurant. Did you know they have streetcars going up and down the street right in the middle of the city? It was fantastic.”

Gina suddenly got quiet. She turned away from the parson. In a moment she looked back. “I'm sorry, Parson. I still miss her.”

The parson put his arm around her and hugged her close. “I do, too, Gina. I do, too.” Releasing his grip on her, he asked, “So, let's get back to the pressure. You're not the dumbest girl on the block, so I don't get the pressure about the classes.”

“Ah, it's not just the classes. Everybody wants me to play soccer. I love soccer; you know that. But, with all the classes, I don't know if I can take time away from my studies to play.”

“I think you should,” the parson said. “You know the competition of the game might give you some relief from the studies; and when you're relaxed you can study better; don't you think?”

“I never thought of it that way,” said Gina. “I'll think about it.”

The parson thought a moment, the said, “Excuse me just a minute, Gina.” He walked around the corner of the building and made a phone call. Returning to sit beside Gina again, he said, “You know, Gina, this summer I'm taking my daughter-in-law, Ms. Parson's daughter, to New York to the theater. I tell you what, if you make it through the year without a nervous breakdown, you can go with us.”

“New York City?”

“New York City.”

“Get out of here! Are you serious?”

“I'm serious. I just asked your mother. She said it's okay.”

“New York City! Oh, my gosh. When are we leaving?”