The story that follows was told to me by Daddy many times. It’s old enough that even he only knew it by secondhand accounts, passed down from generation to generation. It was one of those tales that seemed almost too good to be true, but then again, life has a way of surprising us.

    By a chance encounter, the story was confirmed to me by Tommy O’Daniel’s grandson at our farm garden market in 2010. Hearing it confirmed by his grandson made it all the more real, almost like the ghosts of the past were nodding along in agreement. The theme of the story was a simple one: how much does a person need, in monetary terms, to last them until the end of their life? A question that has haunted people for as long as we have counted our wealth and considered our future.

The events took place during the time when Rev. J. J. Pike was the pastor at Saint Charles Catholic Church in Marion County, Kentucky. He served from 1899 until 1920, overseeing the parish during a period of significant change. It was during his time that the planning and construction of the new church took place, with the building being completed in 1908.

    According to Daddy, Father Pike, who had been the priest of the parish for over a decade, took it upon himself to ask each family for a specific amount to contribute to the new church fund. Daddy surmised that the priest may have known more about the financial underpinnings of each family than some of the families knew of their own financial situation. He wanted the parishioners to take part in building something lasting—a place of worship that would stand for generations to come—and for each family to have ownership of the project regardless of their ability to give.

    Over the course of a year or so, most of the families had given the largest percentage of what they were asked to. The church building fund was close to its goal but still not quite there. With the goal not being met and the desire to start construction weighing on him, Father Pike decided to take matters into his own hands. He set out on visits to what he considered to be the wealthier members of the parish, hoping to secure the final funds needed.

    One Sunday after Mass, Father Pike made his way down the hill from the church to the farm of Tommy O’Daniel. According to his bookkeeping, the amount he expected from Tommy would be enough to fund the project and get construction started. The visit was necessary, and he had high hopes that Tommy’s contribution would be the key to achieving their goal.

I’m sure it was a cordial visit at first. They probably exchanged pleasantries, talked about the weather, and maybe even shared a cup of coffee. But when the time came for Father Pike to press for the donation, Tommy was steadfast in his refusal. Father Pike was persistent, cajoling and reasoning with Tommy, trying to appeal to his sense of duty and faith. But Tommy had other ideas. Finally, Tommy made a proposal.

“Father Pike, I have a question,” he said. “If you can answer it to my satisfaction, I will not only write a check for the amount, but I will double it!”

    Father Pike, already dreaming of what the doubled donation might accomplish—perhaps more beautiful statues or even finer furnishings for the new church—eagerly agreed. Tommy leaned forward and asked, “Father, how long will me and my wife live, and how much will that cost? Give me an answer, and I will write the check.”

    Silence filled the room. Father Pike, despite all his education, all his wisdom, and all his faith, had no answer to that question. There is, after all, no way to know how long our journey in this world will last, nor what it will cost us along the way. He had no choice but to admit that he could not answer.

It’s said that the walk back to the church was a long one for Father Pike. Yes, it was a rather short distance from Tommy’s farm to the church, but it felt much longer as he trudged up the dusty road, his hopes shattered, and no check in hand.

    Though the church was eventually built, it was not with Tommy O’Daniel’s doubled donation. The story stuck with me all these years because it carries a truth that transcends time. No matter how much we plan or how much we save, there are things in life that simply cannot be known or controlled. And perhaps, in the end, that’s what makes life so fascinating.