Sometimes the greatest influence on a child’s life isn’t measured in years.

It’s measured in moments.

The Rev. Leonard Jordan was only eight years old when his grandfather, William J. Brown, Jr., whom everyone in the family simply called “Papa,” passed away.

Yet more than half a century later, Leonard still sees him clearly.

Papa was born in Columbia, Tennessee, before moving to Nashville to work for the railroad. Together, he and his wife, Lucia, raised twelve children, building a family that would one day include grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and a legacy of faith. One of those children was Leonard’s mother, Mary Elizabeth Brown Jordan.

Leonard was the third of four children, with seven years separating him from the brother ahead of him and another seven years to his younger sister. Because of that unusual spacing, he spent much of his childhood with his mother—and with Papa.

Looking back, he laughs and says, “I was his mini me.”

Where Papa went, Leonard wanted to go.

When St. Andrews Presbyterian Church was established, Papa became one of its faithful members. He helped wherever he was needed, drove through the neighborhood picking people up for church, and every Sunday stood at the back door greeting everyone who walked inside.

A little boy stood faithfully beside him.

Papa’s instructions were simple.

Smile.

Look people in the eye.

Give them a good, firm handshake.

Make them feel welcome.

Leonard has carried those lessons ever since.

Papa wasn’t a loud man.

But he paid attention.

Leonard remembers sitting on the front porch with him when a neighborhood boy walked by. Papa called out, asked the boy his name, immediately recognized his family, and told him, “Tell your mom and dad Papa Brown says hello.”

It seemed Papa knew everyone.

More importantly, everyone seemed to know Papa.

One evening, another lesson arrived at the supper table.

Papa’s favorite treat was cornbread with a big glass of buttermilk.

Young Leonard wanted exactly the same thing.

Papa warned him, “Boy, you won’t like this.”

“I will,” Leonard insisted.

So, at Leonard's request, Papa poured him a full glass.

One sip was enough.

The buttermilk was nothing like he expected.

It was strong.

Tangy.

Nothing at all like regular milk.

Leonard immediately regretted asking for it.

Papa smiled but didn’t rescue him.

“You asked for it,” he said. “You’re going to drink it.”

Leonard laughs whenever he tells the story, but he also admits that every church supper since then has begun the same way.

He takes small portions first. Just in case.

One glass of buttermilk became a lifelong lesson about following through and not wasting what you’ve been given.

As Leonard grew older, he realized Papa had been teaching him far more than table manners.

A handshake meant something.

Your word was your bond.

Family came first.

People deserved kindness and respect.

Those weren’t lessons Papa preached.  They were simply the way he lived.

Years later, Leonard answered God’s call to ministry.

Today he serves as pastor of St. Andrews Presbyterian Church.

The very church where Papa once greeted worshipers at the back door.

There are Sundays when Leonard stands in the pulpit, looks toward the rear of the sanctuary, and in his mind can still see Papa standing there.

Waiting.

Smiling.

Welcoming people home.

Family members have quietly affirmed what Leonard already feels.

“Papa Brown would be proud of you,” they have told him.

He believes that, too.

If given one more day together, Leonard wouldn’t plan anything elaborate.
He would simply spend the day in Papa’s presence.

Talking.

Listening.

Asking the questions an eight-year-old never thought to ask.

Because now he understands how precious those conversations would be.
Papa’s influence didn’t end when his life did.
Today, Leonard is intentional with his own grandchildren, understanding that grandparents have a unique opportunity to speak life into the next generation.

He knows.

Someone once did exactly that for him.

And every Sunday, as he welcomes people into God’s house with a smile, a warm greeting, and a firm handshake… Papa is still showing the way. 

Hear Leonard's full conversation above ↑