Glenn Beck

A father is the kind of man the world almost never claps for.

He gets up before the light.

He goes to work that bores him so somebody smaller than him can chase the work that thrills them.

He fixes things twice because the first fix didn't hold and nobody ever knows there was a first fix at all.

And he carries the heavy end and lets his son carry the handle and tells him, good job.

You did it.

Good job.

And he means it.

That man is a father.

We've gotten confused about what the word means.

We think it means a strong jaw and a firm handshake.

We think it means provision and it does.

But a checkbook is not a father.

We think it means discipline, and it does.

But fear is not a father.

It's not the same as respect.

And a man who has only feared has not finished the job.

The truth is older than our dads, our grandparents, our country, older than Rome, written into us before we had a word for it.

To be a father is to go first.

To walk into the dark room ahead of the child and say, see, there's nothing in here, there's nothing to be afraid of, even though you might be freaked out of your mind.