MENTORING... It Takes Whatever TIME It Takes.

FROM THE BOOK -

Tuck could tell from me leaning forward and craning my neck, like an old gossip hearing “fresh” news, that I was wondering just how bad he was.?He chuckled and said, “You wonderin’ if he could have handled that crowd of Ninja in Provideniya that morning? Yessir, he could… and did, a few months later. ?He didn’t kill ‘em, but we never saw some of them again… they were busted up that bad.”

And with that, Tuck got up and headed to the kitchen.

I yelled after him, “Hey! ?Now wait a minute…You got to tell me that one!”

I could hear the clink of mugs and the sound of the coffee pot being taken from the stove, and then replaced. ?But it wasn’t until his steps moved the tongue-n-groove of the life-polished hallway floor to some soft complaint that he made reply.

“Travis, you can’t crowd a lifetime into one weekend son. ?Wouldn’t be as much joy and richness to it, if you could. ?And for now, I’ve walked the halls of that memory all I’m a mind to. ?Fair enough?”

I could tell that some deeper thing had surfaced along with the treasure of this old war story. And I was suddenly ashamed of myself for pushing the point.

“I’m sorry Mr. Tuck. ?It’s just that, well… I’ve never heard stories like these. Hell, I’ve never…”

“Never what, son?”

Now it was my turn to trip over something larger than I’d expected in my mind.

“Nothin’.”

“Fair enough.”

For some reason right then, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I’d never had a man talk with me like he did… never had a man have a conversation with me, like I was a man too. ?I’d been talked to, yelled at, cussed like a step-child… but Tuck Arnold ‘jawed’ with me like I was a friend, worthy of man-type conversation. ?The whole experience, and the realization of just how wonderful it felt, was just too new and overwhelming for me to articulate, at the moment.

So, we sat there in the front parlor room, sippin’ hot spiced cider (that first touch on the taste buds was a bit of a surprise…), listening to the crackle of the fire and the soft, steady rhythm of the old wall clock’s tic-toc. ?And we soaked up the warmth that oak logs and growing friendships put out.

______________________

QUESTIONS -

* As a SEARCHER, have you ever been overwhelmed by just how marvelous the relationship being crafted with a mentor was, at times?

Don't worry, with a good/real one... you will be.

* As a MENTOR, have you ever 'watched the clock' on how things were going with a true/real searcher? How'd that work out for you both?

* As a MENTOR, are you after the searcher knowing more 'stuff', or being strengthened and better equipped for Life?

...the difference makes a VAST difference.

This is where I normally go into a little of my real-life, personal journey along the path, BOTH, as a searcher, and eventually as a life-long mentor. For this one, I will simply share the last part of the ACKNOWLEDGEMENT page of my book.

I had already been in the company of some damn good men/friends/mentors. But at the age of 20, the road to true MAN-hood still seemed like a dark, steep Jeep trail... and I was on a bicycle with a flat tire (slow learner, I guess).

One of the greatest GIANTS of my journey (and life), literally changed everything - from the moment we met. The following was all I could write, at the time. And that, through a steady flow of silent tears of wonder'd THANKFULNESS.

...nothing's changed, in that regard.

"…and last, but most shiningly, to a retired and otherwise forgotten smalltown

sheriff named Sherrill. During a particularly dark hour of my journey

to manhood, you showed me, in one week, more kindness, and more of

what true manhood is, and DOES, than any mortal I’ve ever known…

before OR since. To a homeless, starving kid, whom you’d never met, you

gave $40.00 and the keys to your own FORD truck, so I could eat… and

get to the job site the next morning. For that week, in that long-ago February,

you didn’t just point and bark, you worked with me, grubbing stumps…

building fence… cleaning barns (even though your knees and back were

in terrible shape), and you fed me a grand lunch and paid me well, each

day (even though you were nearly broke… yeah, I noticed). And you

listened… like you were interested. You talked… like I mattered. You

chuckled and laughed and joked… like I was an old friend you were glad

to see.

…and you saved my life.

Sherrill, I don’t know if you’re even still alive (I never saw the man after

that week…). But any resemblance between Tuck Arnold and yourself…

is no accident. THANK YOU!"

-CM Sackett-