To Our Heros We Call "DAD" "MY Father"      This page is dedicated to all those wonderful fathers out there who have given so much of their time, effort, and love in raising a family, and being that "hero" in the eyes of every child who calls him "Daddy".  To these great men I give my gratitued for the wonderful work that they do.  Sometimes we forget the hours that they spend making a living for their families and the strength it takes daily to do this.  Especially I want to thank my own Father, whom I called Daddy.  Although he is no longer living he still lives in my heart and the heart of all of his Children and Grandchildren.  Next I would like to give tribute to my husband who has been there for our children, and Grandchildren every step of the way.  I appreciate each thing that he does for us.  The long hours he has worked to give us a home.  The friendship which he gives to me and the Children, The laughter and joy that he brings to our lives.  He is a fun father and grandfather.  The grandchildren often call him Awesome.  That is the greatest compliment that any grandchild could give to a grand parent.  I wish I had known my Grandfather.  Both died before I was born.  But the stories of their lives are a part of me.  And then there are my sons.  They are all such wonderful fathers.  They are loved and respected by their families.  They walk each day with a prayer in their hearts for their families and all are good companions to their wives as well.   Fathers We Salute and Honor You!!!  "My Dad's Hands" Bedtime came, we were settling down, I was holding one of my lads. As I grasped him so tight, I saw a strange sight: My hands. . .they looked like my dad's! I remember them well, those old gnarled hooks, there was always a cracked nail or two. And thanks to a hammer that strayed from its mark, his thumb was a beautiful blue! They were rough, I remember, incredibly tough, as strong as a carpenter's vice. But holding a scared little boy at night, they seemed to me awfully nice! The sight of those hands - how impressive it was in the eyes of his little boy. Other dads' hands were cleaner, it seemed (the effects of their office employ). I gave little thought in my formative years of the reason for Dad's raspy mitts: The love in the toil, the dirt and the oil, rusty plumbing that gave those hands fits! Thinking back, misty-eyed, and thinking ahead, when one day my time is done. The torch of love in my own wrinkled hands will pass on to the hands of my son. I don't mind the bruises, the scars here and there or the hammer that just seemed to slip. I want most of all when my son takes my hand, to feel that love lies in the grip. By David Kettler It is important for young people to realize that intelligent home building begins with a young man and a young girl in their teens. Often the health of children, if a couple be blessed with such, depends upon the actions of parents before marriage. In the press, from the pulpit, and particularly in the home, there should ring more frequently the message that in their youth boys and girls are laying the foundation for their future happiness or misery. Every young man, particularly, should prepare for the responsibility of fatherhood by keeping himself physically clean, that he might enter into that responsibility not as a coward or deceiver, but as one honorable and fit to found a home. The young man who, in unfitness, takes upon himself the responsibility of fatherhood is worse than a deceiver. The future happiness of his wife and children depends upon his life in youth. (Conference Report, April 1969, p. 6; also _Stepping Stones to an Abundant Life_, p. 319) President David O. McKay What Makes A Dad? God took the strength of a mountain, The majesty of a tree, The warmth of a summer sun, The calm of a quiet sea, The generous soul of nature, The comforting arm of night, The wisdom of the ages, The power of the eagle's flight, The joy of a morning in spring, The faith of a mustard seed, The patience of eternity, The depth of a family need. Then God combined these qualities. When there was nothing more to add, He knew His masterpiece was complete, And so, He called it ... "DAD!" "Daddy's Girl" Looking back through the years, Remembering times that are so dear.. Though they are gone now and in the past.. The memories in my mind will always last.. Of a time I was but a little girl, Who thought my daddy was my world.. When I needed you Daddy, you were always there.. Now you're gone and it doesn't seem fair.. Though it's been almost two years since you died, I still feel the pain from deep inside. Oh Daddy, I still miss you so, And I just don't understand why you had to go.. And though I told you in the end, and made sure you knew, That I always loved you Daddy, and I still do... I know now I didn't say or show it near enough, I was too busy with a life of my own and stuff.. Things that weren't as important I can now see, Oh Daddy, how I wish I had done things differently.. I wish I had done things I didn't do, And I wish I hadn't done a few things I did do too.. But I can't go back in time to the start, Though I wish I could with all my heart.. If I knew then what I know right now, So many things would be different somehow.. You meant so much more to me than I let show, I should have spend more time letting you know.. You taught me so much about what a parent should be, And I always knew how much you loved me.. And though you are in heaven Daddy and not on this world, In my heart I will always be Daddy's little girl.. 04/19/98 © Emerald "Daddy's Girl" When you were young, pony-tailed, face full of playful freckles, were you a daddy's girl? I was. I still am. Did you look to him for your security, for love and attention, for the understanding, and the patience you lacked as a child? My daddy was the center of my small world, the focus of my affections, the star that lit my life, shining bright. Shining still in my heart. The years have led me here, weathered with maturity and responsibilities, and I see more clearly now. The hardships, burdens of love, and all the small sacrifices he made for me, for our family. He created stability, a place to call home. All the photographs I browse through of a child long forgotten, scarcely remembered smiling, so happy and so loved. The mere thought of becoming that role model is enough to send me cowering, afraid... looking for guidance. Turning to my father and my more for support, advice, wise counsel, and for approval. Grown up, I see differently now... A new perspective of a man I have always known. My heart is full, my emotions overpowering just in the certainty of that bond. He's been there for me through all the conflicts helping me over the rough, ragged stones of growing up. My respect for him is unending, faith is unbound, and love is unquestioning. Even in the midst of all my imperfections, he is lenient, ignoring the pitfalls, the downfalls, the shortcomings, he just accepted me as I was, as I am. The sheer purity of it leaves me awe-struck and it lifts me up, it holds my head a little higher, it keeps me in balance, harmonizing with the world around me beautifully, like an inspired masterpiece from the soul of an honest man. I am honored to know him, to love him, to be of him. He's my hero, and I am his daughter, his little girl. ~ Christine McNamara ~ "My Hero" As I ponder the love that I saw in his eyes, A Godly love, given without compromise.... I recall many times that he stood by my side, And prodded me on with great vigor and pride. His voice ever confident, firm and yet fair, Always speaking with patience, tenderness and care. The power and might of his hands was so sure, I knew there was nothing we couldn't endure. It's true, a few others provided insight, Yet, he laid the foundation that kept me upright. He's the grandest of men to have lived on this earth, Although he's not royal by stature or birth. He's a man of great dignity, honor and strength. His merits are noble, and of admirable length. He's far greater than all other men that I know, He's my Dad, he's my mentor, my friend and hero. ~ Debbie Hinton Young ~ "A Passion For Pansies" He loved his English garden, that gentle man- my dad; Taught me to love and call by name each blossom that he had. The roses were his pride and joy; he showed them off with zest. Though resplendent in their radiance, I loved his pansies best. Time slipped by and I recall a purple velvet-collared coat; My dark-eyed daughter's upturned face, a lump in my throat. "She's like a little pansy," was my reminiscing thought; Warm memories of that garden and the lessons Dad had taught. And now that daughter's little girl just called me up to say, "We're going to the nursery, Grandma- want to go with us today? Mother must have pansies to add to all the rest. She remembers Bompa's garden and loved his pansies best." ~ Angela Purton ~ "Little Eyes Upon You" There are little eyes upon you and they're watching night and day. There are little ears that quickly take in every word you say. There are little hands all eager to do anything you do; And a little boy who's dreaming of the day he'll be like you. You're the little fellow's idol, you're the wisest of the wise. In his little mind about you no suspicions ever rise. He believes in you devoutly, holds all you say and do; He will say and do, in your way when he's grown up just like you. There's a wide-eyed little fellow who believes you're always right; and his eyes are always opened, and he watches day and night. You are setting an example every day in all you do; For the little boy who's waiting to grow up to be like you. ~ Author Unknown ~ "The Little Chap Who Follows Me" A careful man I ought to be; A little fellow follows me; I do not dare to go astray For fear he'll go the self-same way. I must not madly step aside, Where pleasure's paths are smooth and wide, And join in wine's red revelry-- A little fellow follows me. 1 cannot once escape his eyes; Whatever he sees me do he tries-- Like me, he says, he's going to be; The little chap who follows me. He thinks that I am good and fine, Believes in every word of mine; The base in me he must not see, The little chap who follows me. I must remember as I go, Through summer's sun and winter's snow, I'm building for the years to be, A little fellow follow me. ~ Author Unknown ~