LEARNING... How To Start The FIRE

#Learning #curiosity #Mentoring #firststep #lightthefire

FROM THE BOOK -

CHAPTER 2

It’s funny how some of the richest gifts and most treasured items of a man’s walk on this land don’t always come wrapped and packaged in such a way that they’re seen as such… at the time. Like high-grade ore, hidden under the muck and grime of rotten quartz, the strength to succeed, sometimes intertwined and unlocked with the challenge a crisis brings… or the healing and Purpose brought to life and given wing in the wounded and lonely, through the soft ‘need’ sounds and honest love of an infant-child... some treasures don’t show their value till they’ve been mislabeled a time or two.

This one was shaping up the same way.

We came into camp and I walked past my fire-ring to a tarp I kept over the supply of wood and sundries (ax, saw, and a small can of kerosene). Lifting a corner of it, I picked up a large double handful of kindling sticks and shavings to start the fire with. The old man’s eyes were taking in the whole layout, his head nodding ever so slightly in what I took to be approval of my choices. I didn’t mind that none.

I dropped the kindling in the center of the ring and headed back for the kerosene.

I’d just picked up the can and turned back toward my fixins when I saw a fire blaze up in full vigor, devouring my meager offering of twigs and sticks. That old man was sitting there on his haunches, like he hadn’t moved and hadn’t a clue how it happened.

“What?” he said in a tone of innocent surprise.

“You know what.” I said in a tone equally full of confusion and consternation… “How in the world did you do that already?!”

“I’ve been COLD before, boy. Made a promise to myself years ago not to repeat the experience.”

He pulled back the edge of his CPO jacket and reached into a war bag hanging off his right hip that I hadn’t seen before. He called me over and motioned for me to hold out my hand. Into it he dropped three small chunks of dark, heavy, richly aromatic wood.

“What’s that?”… That seemed to be the main thing coming out of my mouth this day.

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QUESTIONS -

* As a Searcher, can you vividly remember a time when a mentor's actions peaked YOUR CURIOSITY? Do you vividly remember what you LEARNED?

* In your search, are you more drawn to reams of "facts"... or people, who keep you fascinated with the "What's that?!" moments - who then teach in such a way that the "what" is less of a mystery, but the learning... still MAGICAL?

* As a Mentor, do you focus mainly on the information to share - or the POWER of the searcher's DISCOVERY?

My own, real-life "Tuck Arnold" was an 'old' (early 50's, at the time... that's OLD to a13 year old!) German farmer. His name was Mr. Bergman. And he gave a homeless kid a job, a place to stay... and saved my life.

Like "Travis", I was full of piss-n-vinegar, which left little room for anything else. But the REAL me, the one I kept hidden from 'harm' (and help) was dying to be a real man... a GOOD MAN. I just had no clue (and no takers, at that point) of how to become one. There was the occasional gentleman that would stop for a second, make a point (accompanied too often with a lecture/sermon of just 'how far' I still had to go), and then quickly walk away, or run me off - so I didn't become a 'problem'.

Mr. Bergman did NONE of that.

He didn't approach me for what I was (a homeless, rage-filled, frightened, clueless kid). He walked up to me like I was exactly what/who he was looking for... a young man needing a job he needed filled. Like I mentioned above, he gave me the job (custom-cutting crew, traveling the summer wheat harvest trail from the panhandle of Texas to Fort Benton, Montana). It was along that 14-18 hour a day, 6 days a week journey that he gave me my first real solid ground of true FRIENDSHIP with REAL. GOOD. MEN. And nearly every lesson from him was born out of his patient waiting for my CURIOSITY to get the better of me.

"Hey, Mr. Bergman - what's that?!"

Told ya he saved my life.

-CM Sackett-