Robert E. Lee had taken his son, Custis, out for a walk on a snowy day. A bit into the walk, the heavy snow had taken its toll on Custis, and he fell behind. Lee continued for a few minutes before looking back to see how Custis was doing. His son had found a new way to keep up Instead of fighting the deep snow as before, Custis now followed his father’s every move as he stepped into each one of his dad’s footprints. Witnessing this event had a profound impact on Lee. He said to a friend, “When I saw this, I said to myself, it behooves me to walk very straight when this fellow is already following in my tracks.”

This story came to my mind the other day as I was fishing with my youngest daughter. It wasn’t long before I noticed that she began to cast the same way that I did and to the same spots. She even held the fish the same way I did as we removed the hook from its mouth. Footprints in the snow, you might say.

In a moment like that, a mind begins to race trying to recount the steps taken previously. Have my own steps been straight? Am I walking in the way I want my children to follow? I thought of my oldest daughter who has, for better or worse, inherited the same sharp wit as her father. It has gotten her into the same amount of trouble as it has for me. I also thought of her strength of character and hoped that I had something to do with it.

It all brought me to the idea of Legacy. Someday, hopefully a really long time away, they’ll close the casket on me. What legacy will I have left? Will my children remember me for the business deals I closed, the big projects I finished, the positions I held, or the awards I won? Probably not. They’ll likely remember the footprints I left for them to follow. They’ll remember my character – or lack of it. They’ll remember whether or not I helped a neighbor in need, lived a godly example, or put their own needs and desires ahead of my own. And they will likely have learned to follow in my steps, whether those steps were straight or not.

My pastor told a story sometime ago about another pastor that was driving through a rural area of Georgia. The man was notorious for running out of gas. True to his nature, the preacher ran out of gas. He walked a bit to the nearest gas station and realized that he had left his wallet at home. When he explained his situation to the old man behind the counter, he played his trump card – that he was a minister on the way to a conference, and he sure could use a hand. The old man asked him for his name. The preacher responded and emphasized “Reverend.” The old man thought for a moment. He asked if he was the son of another man with the same name. The preacher was surprised that this old clerk knew his father. The old man commented that he knew the preacher’s father very well and that he was a good man. Quietly, he set about helping the preacher get his car filled up with gas. The preacher promised to return to pay him.

“Don’t worry about it,” the old man said. “Your father’s name is good enough for me.”

Now there’s a man that left a legacy for his son. If only we all left such footprints in the snow for our children to follow.