Children’s Story – Pinewood Derby

My eight year old son, Gilbert, had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings, he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires, and told to return home and give all of these things to “Dad.”

That was not an easy task for Gilbert, as his dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pinewood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, I stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could and could not do, and Gilbert applied himself to the task.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. It was a little lopsided, but looking great, at least through the eyes of Mom. Gilbert had not seen any of the other children’s cars and was feeling pretty proud of his “Blue Lightning,” the pride that comes with knowing that you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue car clutched in his hand, and pride in his heart, we headed to the big race. Once there, my little one’s pride turned to humility. Gilbert’s car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert’s lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility, Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather with them. Gilbert had only his mom.

The race was done in elimination fashion. Each child kept racing their car as long as they were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the smoothly sanded ramp. Finally, all had been eliminated except Gilbert’s little car and the sleekest, fastest-looking car there.

As the last race was about to begin, my wide-eyed, shy eight-year-old, asked if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray. The race stopped. Gilbert went to his knees, clutching his funny-looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face, and announced, “Okay, I am ready.”

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart, and watched his little block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed, rushing over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy’s car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud shout, “Thank You!” as the crowd roared in approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert, microphone in hand, and asked the obvious question, “So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?”

To which my young son replied, “Oh, no sir! That wouldn’t be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I wouldn’t cry when I lost.”

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert did not ask God to win the race; he did not ask God to fix the outcome. He simply asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars, he did not cry out to God, “No fair! They had a father’s help!” No, he went to his Father for strength.

Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God’s strength to get through the struggle. “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” Philippians 4:13.

Gilbert’s simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He did not pray to win, thus hurt somebody else; he prayed that God would supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by stopping the race to speak to his Father, also showed the crowd that he was not there without a “dad” but that his Father was most definitely there with him.

Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side. May we all learn to pray as he did.