Twenty-five years ago Oscar Masters died. I grew up on the farm next to that godly deacon. When he died, I wrote this letter to his wife:
Dear Vera:
I wanted to write and let you know how much Danielle and I hated to hear about Oscar’s death. Of course we have known for some time of his condition, and we and our entire church have been praying for him and for all of you. I went by the V. A. Hospital in Shreveport several weeks ago and visited with Oscar one day. I don’t think he recognized me, but I had an opportunity to pray with him. When I left the room, I knew that it would be the last time that I would see him (in this world anyway), and I had to fight back the tears as I made my way down the hall to the elevator.
I cannot begin to tell you how much Oscar meant to me across all the years of my growing up, and especially during my teenage years. When I think of Oscar, I think of stability and strength. He was always on the front row of our church singing with that deep bass voice, smiling at the preacher, and punctuating the sermon with his “amen.†Other people could come and go, but Oscar was always there.
Oscar taught me to sing bass. I used sit right next to him and try to follow him as he sang. He never seemed to mind. Every time we sing “I Am Resolved,†I think of Oscar.
When I surrendered to preach, I remember his encouragement. He seemed proud of me, and that made me want to be the best preacher that I could possibly be.
When I remember Oscar, I remember the smell of his pipe and the sight of his Farmall tractor cutting fresh furrows across that big hill. I remember his concern for others and his tall stature (When I was a kid, I thought he was at least seven feet tall). I admired the tattoo on his arm and the white spot in his hair that later was lost amidst the gray that covered his head. I always figured I would be as tall as he, or, at the very least, get me a tattoo like his some day. So far I haven’t achieved either goal, but some of his faith wore off on me. I’m sure that that was his most important characteristic.
We will be praying for you, and thanking God for the life of Oscar Masters. Speaking for one who grew up on the farm next to him, here is one boy who will never forget him.
Love,
Lynn
As far as I know, Oscar Masters did not leave much money or property to anyone when he died. But to a boy on the farm next to him, and to a lot of other people, he left a matchless treasure of commitment and dedication to the Lord.
So, be careful about your life. There may be some boy next door to you who is watching and learning. You never know about your legacy, but God is calling you to be faithful with your life!
