The Fred Wooten Suit

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of preaching a revival service at a church in Dublin, GA.  In the midst of that message, I remembered someone who had been a special person to me during my early days of ministry.  I suppose that I am often prone to be nostalgic about the folks that God has used in my life, but we are all today a product of what we were molded into from the past.  Let me share a poem I wrote many years ago about a suit that was given to me as a gift from a special individual.

The Fred Wooten Suit

Tis Easter morn and soon our crowd will be tightly pressed

Tradition will require that most present will be finely dressed

Eyes will turn and roam to see the splendid forms of new attire

Though very few eyes will gaze upon my old suit and admire

But this old friend, this faithful suit that is mine

Has a history that will be dear through the ages of time

He was a lumbering giant who walked upon one foot and a memory

He lost the other while in a foreign land serving his nations’ ministry

His voice was coarse, gravelly, and even gruff

But hide the love within?  Never that rough

His eyes often twinkled with mischievous glee

And just as quick could turn and weep with me

Though none of these were really his most important part

The attribute that often moved me most was a loving heart

He seemed to watch over me with the greatest of care

Whatever I thought I needed, he often found a way to share

Once a turkey, next a C.B. radio, and an occasional loaf of bread

His care was so constant; I had to use care when speaking with Fred

The turkey grew and was eaten, and the radio broke

But another moment yet, the thoughts still provoke

Twas a brown plaid suit hanging on the clothing rail

I hesitated to look at it for it wasn’t even on sale

I told him my suits were fine, it wouldn’t hurt to wait

But he’d come to buy his preacher a suit, no debate

I looked at this brown friend of mine and grimaced at the price

He asked if I liked it, said I “something cheaper would be nice”

“Didn’t come to save money” was his stern reply

“Pick up the suit, that’s the one I’m going to buy”

From that day forth this suit of mine had a little extra part

For somewhere in it was a sliver of Fred Wooten’s heart

He bought it for Easter Sunday of 1977

It’s still here and he’s gone on to Heaven

Now prone to unravel and often needing repair

Of today’s fashions, it doesn’t seem to be aware

Yet, each time I put it, on I pause to meditate

How a simple piece of cloth has such love to radiate

So today, please enjoy your new suits and dresses and even boots

But my joy is even fuller when I’m wearing my “Fred Wooten” suit

Tom Vann

I wish that I still owned that suit, but over the years it seemed to shrink (at least that's my story) and I could no longer wear it.  Bro. Fred would never allow me to tell where I got the suit while he was alive, but with his family's permission I shared this poem the Easter after his death.  We all should cherish the people who loved and supported us over the years, and I think it would be good if we could follow their example and invest into the lives of those that we can bless and help.