Guest Author - P.D. Wiles

By guest author, P. D. Wiles.

In his book, Standing for Something: Ten Neglected Virtues That Will Heal Our Hearts and Homes, Gordon B. Hinckley shares this quote from an anonymous author: "It is not impossible that the true revolutionaries of the twenty-first century will be the fathers of decent and civilized children."

There’s no doubt about it—our fathers play a part in shaping who we are. Their influence, or lack of it, affects us throughout our lives.

I’m not a perfect person, and I have had my ups and downs like everyone else, but overall I’ve had a wonderful life—one full of happiness and contentment. Why? Because of a simple life lesson my dad taught me while I was growing up. I don’t remember how old I was when the subject first came up. All I know is this: From the time I was very young, I understood that no dating until age sixteen was one of the house rules. And I also knew that when I started dating, according to Dad, I was to date the kind of boy I’d want to marry. This single principle has made all the difference in my life.

When I was a kid, this rule wasn’t restrictive. Sixteen seemed far away, and I was glad to just pretend what life would be like when I grew up and had babies of my own. I played school and taught my stuffed animals what little I knew about reading, writing, and arithmetic. I played with my Barbies and dreamed up jet-set lifestyles in exotic locales. I was too busy having fun to worry about such grown-up things!

But that all changed once the middle-school hormones hit. Some of my friends started dating, and I was jealous. I tested the parental waters once, thinking I could warm them up to my reasonable demands, but Dad was adamant—the rule was the rule, and I still had three more years to wait. So I waited, frustrated that my parents couldn’t be as relaxed as the parents of my cool friends who were allowed to date. But even though I thought my parents were unfair, during those adolescent moments when I tried to envision the future I dreamed of marrying a man who would be my best friend.

The funny thing was that the guys I would have liked to date then weren’t that type at all.

When I finally turned sixteen and received the freedom to date at last, this thing I had desired for so long quickly lost its luster. I didn’t date much, but when I did, I didn’t have that much fun. The whole soap-opera, dating game mentality left me feeling empty. More than anything, I wanted to find the kind of person my dad had taught me to look for.

Then suddenly one day, he appeared. Initially, I didn’t know he was the one. But the first time I met him at church I knew there was something special about him. And it didn’t take too many dates later until I realized I had finally found my best friend. What if I hadn’t listened to my dad’s advice? And what if he hadn’t been strong enough to do what he knew would be best for me? I might have found myself on a different path—far away from the intersection where I was to meet my future husband.

But the story goes beyond the “I do’s.” Over the years of our marriage, my best friend and I have had our share of good and bad times—fortunately, mostly good. We’ve raised two beautiful daughters so far, and our son isn’t far behind. As parents we have always agreed—because my husband was also taught by the influence of a good father—upon a shared vision for our children.

I don’t remember when the subject first came up. But from the time our children were very young, they knew that no dating until sixteen was one of the house rules. And when they did date, it would be important to date the kind of people they’d want to marry.

What Dad went through with me in the 70’s, I went through with my daughters in the 90’s. As they grew older and gradually began to talk to my husband and me about their futures, I felt as if I could see myself twenty years ago, when I finally understood that real maturity comes from not how soon or how often you date, but having the wisdom to choose to date the right people (those who respect you), only in the right places, and only at the right times.

Today I hope we’ve taught them enough to help them make the right choices about marriage. Their lives are busy—college, work, church activities—and they are fortunate to have a large support group, made up of girls and guys. All are friends, and all look out for each other. All we as parents can do now is pray, hope they make the right decisions, and give advice when we can.

And I hope someday when they marry and have children of their own, my Dad’s advice will be passed on—like a treasured heirloom—to the next generation.

Thanks, Dad—and Happy Father’s Day.