There were three men in church. There were more, and there were women and children, but to me there were three men in the church.
The three men were all men, clearly men. They looked me in the eye and shook my hand with a strong grip. They all congratulated me on the good news.
Two of the men were unhappy men, clearly unhappy men. One told me how he always prayed he would have his own successful, business. The ton eof his voice and the wrinkles in his face told me that those prayers were growing more infrequent. He told me to never take this opportunity for granted. We'lll come back to the second unhappy man after we visit the only happy one.
One of the men was a happy man, clearly a happy man. He was running his own landscaping business with dozens of employees. He often showed up to church late, with grass clippings on his shoes. He told me to savor the start, because as tough as it was—it was his favorite part.
As we were getting ready to leave, we ran into the third man. The third man was also known as the second unhappy man. He was the biggest donor to the church. He had built a waste manangment empire, one of Houston's biggest. Two years ago, he finally sold it and cashed out enough money to take care of his children's children. He put his arms around me and wished me the best. He told me to never sell.
Three men teaching one boy to never grow up. Three wise men and one dumb boy who was going to have to learn it all himself, just like they did.