Dr. Cook’s Father

Mere Agency Oct 31

Dr. Cook's Father
I suppose my best memories of my father date from those three years. For one thing, I noticed that he faced his own personal problems with his Lord and with the hope the Christian faith affords to the believer. Sometimes, with the unconscious cruelty of the very young, I would look at him and say, “What’s the matter with you, Pop?” Often he would sigh, and say, “Oh, I guess I’m just lonesome for your mother.” (Charley Cook always carried the torch for his Daisy, never remarried.) Like as not, however, he would then reach over to the book case nearby, pick out one of the scores of song books he owned, and begin to turn the pages in search of a song that fit his mood. Soon I would hear him sing, “Does Jesus care when I’ve said goodbye to the dearest on earth to me…” And then it wouldn’t be long before he would look over at me while I stood at the sink washing the dishes and say, “Hallelujah, my boy, one of these days I’m going to see your mother again, and we’ll walk down the golden streets of glory together.” My father had learned how to look heavenward and conquer his blues.

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