An Edmonton Father's Wisdom, 1944 by Harley Reid

Date: Summer 1944

If procrastination paid interest I would have been a wealthy young man that summer of 1944. I had developed a plan to alter my life and all that was required was my father¹s approval. I don¹t remember how many times I was going to talk to him about OEthe plan¹ and didn¹t. I would rehearse my presentation and each time the moment seemed right to state my case I found some excuse not to.
I believed my social life was suffering because I did not have enough time to mingle with friends. Monday to Friday I attended school. Each day after school and on Saturday afternoon, I delivered the Edmonton Journal newspaper. Every Saturday morning I mowed the lawn during the growing season and Sunday was taken up with Church and Sunday school. In my young mind, there just was not enough time for me.

Approaching my father took some skill. Each workday he arrived home about five. After he cleaned up and changed his clothes we all sat down for supper. After supper, as my sister and I did the dishes, Dad retired to his office in the living room. The back of his favorite chair and its¹ two arm rests formed three of his office walls and the evening edition of the Journal was the fourth.

Once inside his sanctuary, nothing disturbed him except telephone calls from work. Time after time I would sit across from him telling myself when he finished reading the Journal I would speak out.

Once the paper even drifted down to the floor unread and dad was fast asleep.

One Saturday evening I got my chance and marched into unexplored territory, telling my father what I was going to do. I was pretty shaky at first, but his silence encouraged me. I outlined the demands on my time, day after day, and how it interfered with my social life. He smiled and nodded his head but did not speak. Gaining strength from this I plunged into deeper water and outlined my solution to the problem. Plan A: I would stay home from school one morning each week to cut the lawn. This would free up Saturday morning for socializing. If this presented a problem then I would agree to Plan B. I could be persuaded to miss Church and Sunday school and cut the lawn on Sunday mornings. I paused and waited. I was out of ammunition and my plans stood naked before my father.

Dad smiled again and complimented me for presenting two plans to him. He assured me both had merit but given my age at the time, Plan A, missing school to cut the lawn, would not be acceptable as the law insisted I be in school. As for Plan B, another law was in charge. Things like tradition, we have always done it this way, and my mother was there to enforce that law.

Then he suggested a solution to this load I was carrying. He reminded me that I had persuaded him that I was responsible enough to handle a paper delivery route. He had given me his support but he pointed out it was my decision to start and it would be my decision to stop. So, if I thought I had too heavy a load maybe I could drop the Edmonton Journal deliveries and that it was my choice.

Time passed as I carried on my busy schedule and pondered giving up the paper route and the money I earned as a result. I enjoyed knowing the decision was mine so I just stayed with my busy life.

I turned fourteen that summer of 1944 and the load I¹d been carrying disappeared. The summer holidays gave me ample time to develop social skills. One Saturday morning as I steered the push mower around our front lawn I thought about my father and his skill in handling my very real problem. His wisdom left me in charge of the things I could change in my life and his explanation of the things beyond my control made sense. I felt good. Fourteen was going to be all right.