Gus

"Dad, where did you get this cute donkey?"

I was referring to a small brown, hand carved donkey, teeth showing in his smirking grin. I held it in my hands, admiring the marksmanship.

"Oh, that's Gus."

"Dad, I know you're not a democrat. What are you doing with it?"

"Do you remember that fellow I told you about that I was helping as he got older? Well, I used to help him out and drive him around, and at the end I went to visit him daily in the nursing home. Before he died he told me that he wanted me to inherit his money. He said he had no family and I had been his only friend as he got older. I told him I didn't want his money. Too much money can only cause trouble. I had enough with my pension and social security to take care of your mother and myself. I had all I needed for a comfortable life.

"Well", he told me, "What should I do with my money? I have no one in this world who cares a fig about me except you."

"I suggested he leave his money for scholarships for students to help them pay for a college education. Education is the gateway to good jobs. I hate to see kids settle for work in the mines if they have higher ambitions."

"Gus liked the idea, but he still wanted me to have something to remember him by. I took his old car that I had been chauffeuring him around in since he could no longer drive and this little donkey standing by his bed side. That made Gus happy. Now I have this donkey that I named Gus to remember him by. His memory lingering on was what mattered to him."

Today the donkey, Gus, stands on my living room book case. Every time I look at him I remember Gus and my Dad. Each spring when I get my home town newspaper I look at the list of high school graduates that receive scholarships. Each year as I read the names of the Gus Killeen scholarship receivers I say to myself, "Thanks, Dad. You gave promise to eight young people who could not afford college without the help of the man who only wanted to be remembered long after he was gone."

Those fortunate students may not know who was responsible for their college help, but on receiving the scholarship, they hear the name of this lonely man who was fortunate in his life to have had my father for his friend.

As long as Gus, the donkey, remains stolidly on my bookshelf, both my father and his friend, Gus, will be remembered. When I pass the donkey on to a family member I want this person to know the story of the love between two old friends and the value they had in passing on an opportunity for learning to the kids of the future.

Today as I dusted Gus, the donkey, I thought I would write this story in the memory of two extraordinary men and the legacy that will be carried on for years to come.