More Precious Than Gold, Be The Gift of Mentoring A Young Person

In September of 1966, I began the eighth grade at Chapel Hill School in Lincoln Park. It was a most magical and enchanting time for me. Once again, I was able to walk to school in the early morning. There was the chirping of the song birds, the scurrying of squirrels climbing up and down the trees that adorned Main Street. There was a certain joy and happiness of once again walking to school with the old gang.

For just a few months ago, I had been recovering from a full-year battle with dreaded Rheumatic Fever. And, all through seventh grade, I had tutors. For that entire year, my feet never touched the ground. But in that year, something very special happened in my life. From both, my hospital bed at times and my bed at home, I began to write feature stories for the old Lincoln Park Herald.

Mr. Nicholas Marino, the Editor-in-Chief of the old Lincoln Park Herald, took an interest in my writings. While I was battling Rheumatic Fever, I would write stories about Boy Scout Troop 170. My mom would type them up and hand deliver them to Mr. Marino at his little newspaper office, located close to my home.

During my year-long fight with Rheumatic Fever, I wrote dozens of little news and feature articles for Mr. Marino. And, he graciously printed them all. But if it wasn’t for my mom, typing them up for me, I would have never had my start in life as a writer.

I do not think that I ever chose to be a writer. I think God called me to be a writer. There were way yonder too many coincidences in my journey to find success in the writing arena. I was to write news articles and feature stories for the Lincoln Park Herald, for many years. Mr. Marino was a tough editor, but he also had a heart of gold. He was an old school editor, all the way.

Now at 68, I look back at the people who helped me in life. For the most part, most of them have gone on to be with the Lord. It’s too late to tell them thank you. I guess that’s one of the side effects of growing old.

If there’s someone who has reached out a helping hand to you, please do consider letting them know just how much you appreciate their kindness. The sands of the hourglass are forever flowing, the clock is always ticking, the pages of the calendar get torn away far too quickly, and the years pass in a seemingly blink of an eye. Appreciation and thankfulness are virtues that are more precious than gold.  

Richard Mabey Jr. is a freelance writer. He can be reached at [email protected]. Please put on the subject line: More Precious Than Gold.