Push In Your Chips
Intro
This is Time's Corner, a weekly newsletter by Christian Leithart. I’m co-founder of Little Word, editor of Good Work magazine, and creator of Psalm Tap, a yearly colloquium for church musicians. By day, I teach make the most of summer break, and by night, I edit this newsletter.
There was no newsletter last week and I have no excuse for its absence. Perhaps I can make up for it with the announcement that, a few days ago, Good Work Volume II finally made its way into mailboxes across the country. If you still haven’t signed up, shame on you. Send me your address and I’ll mail you a copy, ‘cause I’m such a nice guy with oodles of time on my hands.
Push In Your Chips
We planted a couple of trees in our front yard a few weeks ago—one fig and one persimmon. The guy at the plant nursery said they were good choices for beginners since they’re tough and fruit early. (An apple tree takes years to give you anything.) “You’ll have to water it, though,” he told us, “since you’re planting so late in the year.” A small price to pay for a bushel of persimmons. So, twice a week, I give each tree enough water to fill a foot-square pan half an inch.
Planting something as permanent as a tree inevitably makes one think of the future. Google tells me fig trees can live a hundred years, a longer prognosis than I would give our house, which looks every one of its thirty-eight years old. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the tree outlasted the house. That tree may still be standing in 2085, producing little snacks for hungry children whose parents haven’t yet been born. Or it might be cut down. We leave our work to those who come after us, and who can tell whether they will be wise or foolish?
That was the topic of an episode of the Stories Are Soul Food podcast a few weeks ago (or, as I call it, “The Nate and Brian Show”). The episode was called “The Problem of Solomon’s Inheritance,” which is a great title. The guys talked about the trap that so many successful parents fall into, that of raising kids who are completely unable to handle the success they inherit. How do we escape it? Nate’s advice was twofold: first, make sure your kids know their family history. Who were their grandparents? What did they give up to put their descendants where they are today? What risks did they run? What mistakes did they make? How did God write their lives? Tell the stories so that your kids understand that they’re playing roles in a drama that’s much larger than they are. Drama? Let’s call it a dramatic comedy, and encourage them to take pratfalls.
Nate’s second bit of advice was to be willing to risk it all. Push in your chips. Teach your sons to “risk it on one turn of pitch and toss,” as Kipling would say. You may lose it, yes, but what’s a great inheritance for, if not to back some noble wager?
Trees turn to stumps eventually, but that doesn’t mean they should never have been planted.
Upcoming
Registration for the fourth annual Psalm Tap is open! Catch up on previous Psalm Taps here.
Up To
Reading: Strangers on a Train, thanks to Josh Gibbs.
Watching: Continuing our tour through the oeuvre of John Hughes with Pretty in Pink.
I’m going to try recommending an essay and a poem every week. This week’s essay is Agnes Reppelier’s meditation on house cats, named after her own pet “Agrippina.” Reppelier has an incredible array of authors at her fingertips, as well as a wry sense of humor. She doesn’t take herself too seriously. This is a good quality to have when writing about cats because they absolutely do take themselves too seriously.
This week’s poem is “This is New England,” by Margery Mansfield. I couldn’t easily find the whole thing online, so here’s a sample:
I rode through Indiana, and the ragged hedges cried
In whimsy gipsy beauty:
”Your father lived here, and your father died.”
My feet went scuffing through the singing sand
Of Michigan. I understand
The quick-caught breath and the tears in my throat,
The wave-ribbed shore and the wild bird’s note.
I am a child of these. Yet it is known
New England never loses—quite—its own.
Thursday Question
Thursday’s issue will be devoted to your replies to this question:
What’s a risk one of your ancestors made that you’ve directly benefitted from?
About
I’m Christian Leithart, a writer and teacher living in Birmingham, Alabama. I’m not active on social media, but you can read my blog here. Use the button below to share this issue of Time’s Corner, if you so desire. Thanks much for reading.