I remember when I was a kid in northern Vermont and my Mom would bake one of her delicious mincemeat pies. It is still one of my favorites, but I’ve kind of learned to like Sweet Potato Pie quite a lot now that I’ve moved down south. Getting back to the mincemeat, you could smell it way out in the hayfield and there would always be a battle royal about who would get the biggest piece. We, my older brothers and I, had devised several innovative ways of measuring each piece, which were all very close to the same size. Maybe I’ll tell you about them some other time.

Me, being the youngest of the "middle three", (I was 4 of 7.) usually got the short end of the deal, that is the smallest piece of pie after everyone else got served. Usually, make that always. Not that I begrudge my older brothers for their lack of brotherly love, it was there, just a little hard to find at pie eating time. But after a while I just resigned myself to the fact that this was to be my position in life, at least in the family. I always got my pie, but it was always the smallest piece.

My place in the family hierarchy taught me so many lessons that I have used in my Masonic life.

Patience, a fair amount is required when instructing new candidates and while waiting for the decision to be made regarding my piece of pie.

Fortitude, just hanging in there when things take a turn for the worse and in standing up for a bigger piece, even though I knew I would never get one.

Humility was probably the hardest, yet most profound one of all. I always had plenty of "hand-me-downs" to wear, and I seemed to look like my brothers did last year, only a little more raggedy around the edges. Of course, I was not the only one who noticed my apparel, and you know how kids are. It was a tough row to hoe sometimes, and I still got the smallest piece of pie.

Boy, did my skin toughen up, which leads me to the point of this article. Throughout Masonry I have always had Big Brothers who were always ready to further my knowledge, increase my tolerance, and give me my piece of pie. It took several years before I realized that I didn’t always get the smallest piece, that they didn’t always give me "hand-me-downs", but instead, they gave the best that they could. I’ve had the privilege of serving two Masonic Lodges as Worshipful Master. A bigger piece of the pie.

Finally I caught on, and have been hanging on tight ever since. I know now that my childhood years taught me so many lessons about life that I never could have learned had I been the older brother. All the good things, all the bad things, and everything in between are but stepping stones to a better life tomorrow. The biggest piece of pie.