By Mary Murphy

New Enon News

Father’s Day is fast approaching for real fathers and pretend fathers with little or no ability to know what it means.

Too many young ladies have fallen into the act of no return, where many pretend fathers are fast approaching but none have the substance to stand. The gap is open but no one to close it.

Those of us who are very fortunate to have someone stand in the gap. We share our love of father with you.

My brother, Benjamin William Fondren, died of cancer, not before our father prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for a son who set the example for the children he left behind.

We were in the Detroit Hospital when he took his last breath, along with many parents, students and teachers. You see Ben was a leader to many, who’s life was full of joy and sadness.

A child admired the man in the mirror good or bad.

Watch the male child in your life and see the hidden secrets in his eye and the smile it portrays.

A Letter to My Father

By Benjamin William Fondren

To a child a father is his/her anchor, their shepherds, their source of strength, that’s what you are my father.

Whenever I was in despair and my world came crushing in, I looked toward your strength, your spirituality, to pull me through, time and time again.

I remember one night, leaving church and going home. We were stopped by two angry racist policemen, intent on doing wrong.

They came up to our car door, with the devil in their eyes. You spoke with them with conviction. You spoke to them with strength. You did not stutter like a sheep that had been caught by a wolf in surprise.

They went on their way like two cowards int he night, convinced that you were not the one for them to pick a fight.

Was only ten or eleven, but I remember it very well. I could not wait to get back home to tell my friends our tale.

So proud I was and still am as I recollect that night. My father was my hero, who sues the Lord as his might.

A father is a shepherd, a hero, a source of strength, a spiritual guide, a teacher, and a preacher that puts up tents.

You are all these things my father, and so much more.

“Upon this rock, I will build my church.” You are the rock, my father.

Love you, your son, Benjamin

The storms of life slip by with the wind at your feet. The beat of the drums kissing the sweet melody of no tomorrow.

Chimes ringing ever so softly. Cymbals crashing together with rhythm, listening to the melody of one’s heart.

Piano playing with a touch of Eric, moving softly by the waking of the sun.

Deloris on Clarinet as she walks with the rhythm at her back.

Mary in her dreams on flute.

Keith on bass guitar, remembering the past and present of what’s to come.

Terrance on drums letting his heart flow with the blessing he’s been given.

Elvage playing his guitar in between classes to relax the mind.

Chauncey sings the songs of Zion to lift the spirit of tomorrow.

These instruments are the beat of a loving heart that flows from you to children and greats. The beat of the violin gloves on.

Our love continues.