The Secret of Success

Wisdom of the times

The old porch creaked under their feet as the late afternoon sun leaned low against the horizon. Grandpa leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. Jasper sat cross-legged on the porch steps, holding a half-eaten apple.

“Grandpa,” Jasper said, squinting up at him. “What’s the secret of success?”

Grandpa tapped his chin with one finger.

“Ah,” he said. “The famous question. Philosophers, kings, and very determined squirrels have wondered the same thing.”

Jasper frowned and asked, “Squirrels?”

“Of course,” Grandpa said. “Have you ever seen a squirrel give up on a bird feeder? No. We call that persistence.”

Jasper took a bite of his apple.

“So, the secret of success is being like a squirrel?”

“Partly, but if you want the full secret, you must listen closely.”

Jasper leaned forward.

“Success,” Grandpa said, “Comes from three things. Showing up, doing the work, and keeping your pants out of puddles.”

Jasper blinked and his eyes darted from side to side.

“Pants out of puddles?”

Grandpa nodded.

“When a person who stands in a puddle too long, he starts to shiver. A shivering person doesn’t build bridges, finish his homework, or lead great adventures in the wild. Dry feet, clear head.”

Jasper studied his own shoes.

“What if it’s sunny out?”

“Then keep your shoes untied. Go bare foot for once. Your feet need a little breeze. You need a little breeze.”

The wind rattled the porch railing.

“But Grandpa,” Jasper said, “what if someone’s already better than me?”

“Then you keep going until they wonder how you caught up.” He paused. “Or they trip on their own untied shoes.”

Jasper grinned. “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s not mean either,” Grandpa replied. “It’s just gravity at work.”

They sat quietly for a while, watching a cloud drift toward the treetops. Jasper took another bite of his apple. Grandpa shifted his weight, making the chair creak.

“So,” Jasper said, “I just have to be a squirrel with dry feet.”

“Exactly,” Grandpa answered. “And one day, when you have your own porch and a very puzzled child, you can give the same advice.”

Jasper stood up, brushing off his knees. “What if they ask why?”

Grandpa tapped the side of his nose. “Then you look wise and pretend there’s a reason.”

Jasper laughed. “That’s your real secret, isn’t it?”

Grandpa leaned back again.

“Busted, Jasper. Ya got me.”