my best childhood memory

I had a friend tell me that the only reason I help other people is so that I don't have to work on myself. I very, very sincerely hope that's not true. I don't think it is, but I'm going to pray about it and see what comes up. It brought me to this memory, though:

When I was little I lived in a very communal part of the Bronx. Everyone knew everyone. I was maybe four, and my father was taking my cousin Donna and I to the beach. My dad passed a kid on the street and invited him to come along. He ran to ask his mom and get his suit and by the time he came back we were waiting for another kid to do the same. My next memory is being on the floor behind the drivers seat, between someones shoes. There were two kids in the front seat and five or six in the back. But I remember being really sad when we couldn't fit anymore kids, and I know my dad was sad about it too.

That is one of the best examples of Christ I can think of. I want to be like my dad. I want to be generous and loving for no other reason than seeing joy in someone else.

And that is also my best childhood memory. I told that to my father and he sent me this text today.

I have nothing but wonderful memories with you. I know the best is yet to come. The future is so bright I have to wear shades.

Shades like these: