This is Max Locato. I was seven years old. I'd had enough of my father's rules and decided I could make it on my own. Thank you very much. I got to the end of the alley and remembered I was hungry, so I went back home. Did Dad know of my insurrection? I suspect he did. Was I still his son? Apparently so. No one else was sitting in my place at the table.

Suppose someone had asked my father, Mr. Lakato, your son says he has no need of a father. Do you still

consider him your son? What do you think he would have said? He considered himself my father,

even when I didn't consider myself his son.

His commitment to me was greater than my commitment to him. So is God's. I can count on him to be in my

corner no matter what. And you can too. This is Max Locato.