I shook hands with my father in the truck, and for a long time he looked straight ahead and didn't say a word.But I knew he was going to say a little to me."I can't tell anything."  he finally said."I never went to college, and none of your brothers went to college.I can't say don't do this and do that, because everything is different and I don't know what is going to come up.I can't help much with money either, but I think things will work out." He gave me a new check-book ."If things get pushing, write a small check.But when you write one, send me a letter and let me know how much.There are some things we can always sell." In four years all the checks I wrote were less than a thousand dollars.My part-time jobs such as reading to the blind student and sitting with the teachers' kids filled in the _ . "You know what you want to be, and they'll tell you what to take," my father went on."When you get a job, be sure it's honest, and work hard." I knew that soon I would be alone in the big town, and I would be missing the cool winds and a life where your thinking was done for you. Then my dad reached down beside his seat and brought the old, broken Bible that he had read so often, the one he used when he wanted to look something up in a friendly quarrel with one of the neighbours.I knew he would miss it.I knew, though, that I must take it. He didn't say read this every morning.He just said," This can help you if you will let it." Did it help? I got through college without being a burden  on the family.I have been able to make money since. Why did the father not ask his son not to do this and do that?
Because he felt quite confident of his son. Because he was born from a poor family. Because he was a man of few words. Because he didn't want to be much too strict with his son.