“My son, fear thou the LORD, and the king: and meddle not with them that are given to change.” (Proverbs 24:21)
Well, at the time of this writing, the sassafras is beginning to turn red, the sumac also. The sugar maple standing in front of the First Baptist Church in Cabool is putting on the many shades of orange it dons each Autumn. This time of year (my favorite), the Mrs. and I often park up on the hill on the shoulder of South 181 and look north upon the little town of Cabool – a perfect picture of small town America.
The white steeple from the Christian Church building is peaking through between the big pin oak and sugar maples standing out front. Its contrast against the orange and green colors is quite the sight. This evening, the train – a regular visitor – is passing through town; and looking above, further up the steep hill sits the beautiful craftsmanship of the old stone buildings of the high school.
Not to take away from the wonderful scene, but there is something missing: The old water tower. Although the ones who removed it probably knew best, if it had been up to me, it would still be standing there. The old Mill Pond would still be in Houston also, and folks would be ice skating every winter evening, dressed in their woolens, singing hymns as they skated. But that is just me. It is no secret by now, that I am not much of a hand for change, even less so, the older I get.
Yes, obviously, some things change. But, what of people? Have they changed? And that, dear reader, is the subject of this short letter.
There is a passage in the Bible that I have been pondering lately, a lot. Specifically the book of Titus, Chapter 2 verse 2, and it says the following: “That the aged men be sober, grave, temperate, sound in faith, in charity, in patience.” That word “sober” means to be discreet. Noah Webster says this: “It is the discreet man, not the witty, nor the learned, nor the brave who guides the conversation, and gives measures to society.” Hmm? Interesting.
Although, I am thankful to have in my memory several men to recall when reading Titus 2:2, there is one man in particular that always comes to mind: Emerson Hamilton, of Solo.
Well, Mr. Hamilton was discreet, he didn’t change, and he was always the same.
Although he didn’t know it, and I couldn’t have explained it, I now realize it sure gave a small boy who was observing and learning, great comfort knowing that he was there, and knowing that he wasn’t going to change. I remember well when he would come to sell us eggs, and how I always wanted to listen to what he had to say (which wasn’t much).
Yes sir, in my opinion, Mr. Hamilton was just about as close to that passage of scripture describing what aged men should be, as any that I have ever encountered. Ever. He was constant.
How’s that? What do I mean by constant? Well, as kindly as I can, I will attempt to explain it in just a few words. And I hope you will read more into it than what is on the surface; a whole lot more. For, I mean a whole lot more, because what I am about to describe, sadly, has all but vanished. You see, Mr. Hamilton wasn’t blown about by every fad and fancy that the world deemed amusing, or honorable. No, sir. He was just the same ole quiet Emerson (1 Thes. 4:11). Same haircut, same clothes, same truck, same farm, same house, and yes, same wife – Mrs. Clara (she was wonderful too).
So, this begs a few questions. Namely, what do the children of today have for examples? And what is to happen to them spiritually when they have no Emerson Hamilton’s in their life? Have we entered a time in which nobody really cares anymore?
As God is my witness, after Mr. Hamilton passed, I often wondered who would take his place. Sincerely, I would meet a man, and I would look into his eyes, and ask the question in my mind, “Would you please be Emerson Hamilton?” Sadly, the answer was always no, and I would lower my head and walk away sad, and oftentimes angry.
In closing, I was standing nearby when that photo of Mr. Hamilton was taken. He was showing those of us present how children used to play when he was a little boy. Pushing a ring with a stick, the ring oftentimes being from the hub, or wheel, of a wagon.
Once again, a lot has changed. But, he didn’t. No sir, he didn’t, and I for one am thankful.
But more importantly, did you know there is someone else who doesn’t change?
“For I am the LORD, I change not…” (Mal. 3:6)
“Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and today, and forever.” (Heb. 13:8)
That really brings me great comfort, it sure does. And oftentimes when I am on my knees in the quietness of the night, I ask the One who changes not, to give me strength. Strength, because no matter how often I fail, for His sake, I truly want to be a Mr. Hamilton…even if nobody cares anymore.
Well, it looks like the train is about to make its way through town. I reckon I will turn the key on this rusty old truck, mosey on back home, and try to pen this letter. This letter that has been hiding in my heart for a spell. Lord willing, until next time.
Michael Everett Jones is a Texas County native, old fashioned historian and purveyor of traditional Christian values. Email ozarksgrandpajones@gmail.com.