If I Could Do It, You Can Too!

I began life, literally, with nothing.  Given up as an infant by my biological mother, an unmarried young woman from the small town of Moose Jaw in Saskatchewan, Canada, I was adopted by a poor, middle-aged couple, John and Mary Linkletter.

My adoptive father was one of the warmest men I've ever known, but he had absolutely no ability as a businessman.  A part-time evangelical preacher, he also tried selling insurance, running a small general store and making shoes, all rather unsuccessfully.  Eventually we found ourselves living in a charity home run by a local church in San Diego.  Then Dad Linkletter felt called by God to become a full-time preacher, and we had even less money.  And what we did have was usually shared with whatever neighborhood derelict happened to be looking for a meal.

I graduated from high school early and hit the road as a hobo at the tender age of 16 with the idea of finding my fortune.  One of the first things I found, however, was the wrong end of a pistol: my traveling companion and I were held up by a couple of toughs who found us sleeping in a boxcar.

"Put your hands straight out and lie flat!" one of the men ordered.  "If this match goes out and I hear anything more I'll shoot."  As they searched our pockets and felt around our middles, I wondered if money was all they wanted.  I was frightened because I had heard stories of older hobos sexually attacking young boys.  Just then, the match went out ...  and was hastily relit.  We did not move!  The thieves found $1.20 on me but missed $10.00 I had sewn into my coat lining.  They also took two dollars from my friend, Denver Fox.

The match went out again and I could tell by their hesitation that they were undecided about something.  As Denver and I lay there, inches apart in the darkness, I heard the hammer of the pistol click back and a cold chill ran down my back.  I knew they were considering killing us.  There was little risk for them.  The rain hammering down on the outside of the boxcar would drown out any noise.  Frozen with terror, I thought of my father and how he would have prayed for me had he known.  Suddenly fear left me and peace and calm returned.  As if in response to my own restored self-assurance, they moved back toward us.  Then I could feel one of the men push something against my arm.

"Here's your thirty cents," he said.  "Breakfast money."

Today I can look back on 45 years as a star of two of the longest-running shows in broadcasting history; I can reflect on the success I've had as a businessman, author, and lecturer; and I can be proud of my wonderful family life - 58 years with the same wife, five children, seven grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren.  I mention this not to be boastful but to encourage others who are at the lower rung of the economic ladder.  Keep in mind where I started and remember, if I could do it, you can, too!  Yes - you can!

--Art Linkletter

PRAYER FOR THE AGED

"Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old.

"Keep me from getting talkative and particularly from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every occasion.

"Release me from craving to try to straighten out everybody's affairs.

"Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details---give me wings to get to the point.

"I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others pains.  Help me to endure them with patience.

"But seal my lips on my own aches and pains--they are increasing and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

"Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.

"Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint--some of them are so hard to live with--but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.

"Make me thoughtful, but not moody; helpful, but not bossy.  With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all --but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.

Author Unknown