One person can make a lasting difference in another person's life

On Monday, Aug. 13, 15 people gathered for lunch at a local restaurant to reconnect with an old friend. The honored guest was an 88-year-old Japanese-American minister, William June Nukida. 

As a young man, June was heavily influenced by my father, Paul Yadon, who pastored a small church in Parma.

The teacher-student relationship between these two men took place in the late 1940s, when many Japanese-Americans struggled against prejudice in their communities. But the bond between these two men was genuine and lasting.

Upon graduation from high school, June left the Parma area and continued his training at a couple of Bible colleges before ministering in post-war Japan for 15 years. Returning from Japan, he took up residence in California where most of his family had moved. For several years, June has been living in Stockton, CA, in retirement.

Recently, he called me to express his desire to make one more visit to the Parma area to honor (in his words) the graves of his family and his pastor, Paul Yadon. He requested an opportunity to speak in the Parma church to express his gratitude for those people who nurtured him in faith in his formative years. He also wanted an opportunity to have lunch with some old acquaintances and walk down memory lane once more.  And so, a small group of friends met for lunch.

While June Nukida was the featured guest around whom these friends gathered, the conversation around the table focused on God's grace in Parma.  There was a sense of reverence for the faithful labor of my father in that village. Without his ministry, none of us would have gathered for this luncheon.

I brought an old picture of my family to this gathering. As I presented it to June, he just held the picture and stared at his old pastor. Then, his bottom lip began to tremble and the tears streamed spontaneously down his cheeks. He could only mutter, "Oh, how I loved that man!"

As I listened to old friends revisiting old memories, I could not help but think of the impact one unassuming person can make on other people.

My father would have been humbled and amazed that so many people would have fondly remembered him.

From my perspective, my father died a disappointed man. He often wondered what he had accomplished in the 48 years he spent in Parma. At the time of his death, Mom was in a nursing home, his sons were scattered around the nation, and the church congregation had dwindled to a very small number, as past members had either died or migrated to larger churches. 

Dad was left alone to care for one of his sons who still lived at home. During a time of discouragement, he asked me in one of our regular Saturday morning phone conversations, "Is this what life comes down to?"

Dad collapsed and died while elk hunting in Adams County in October 1983. He would have been shocked at the hundreds of people who filled the largest church in Parma to honor him.

Many residents of Parma stood in the vestibule of the church to allow those who traveled some distance to have a place to sit. Dad would have been humbled by the eulogy of a fellow minister from another denomination.

As amazing as that outpouring of love at his funeral was, my father would have been overwhelmed to know that, after being in his grave for almost 24 years, his memory would provoke tears of gratitude from an 88-year-old disciple and reverent conversation around the table of old friends.

Have you ever wondered what measurement God uses to evaluate someone's life?

Dad left little material wealth for his family, but I was shaken to again realize the spiritual investment he made that is paying dividends in the lives of those who knew him.

When you question the impact one person can make on another, just look at the tear-stained cheeks of an 88-year-old disciple who came all the way from California to visit Dad's grave.

Loren A. Yadon is pastor of New Life Fellowship of Boise.