Back in 2004, right after I got out of high school, I landed my first full-time job at a landscape and nursery company.
It wasn't glamorous.
We designed and installed landscapes for custom-built homes. That meant everything from irrigation systems and final grading to laying sod, planting trees, installing landscape lighting, building hardscapes—you name it. We even had our own nursery where we grew and maintained many of the plants we installed.
It was hard work.
Summer meant long, hot days. Spring meant mud. Rain meant your boots stayed soaked no matter how "waterproof" they claimed to be. By the end of most days, you were exhausted.
If I'm being honest... I didn't really enjoy it.
Then winter came.
Because I wasn't old enough to be on the company's insurance for the snowplow trucks, I was laid off for the season. I found a job in a factory, and surprisingly, I loved it.
I stayed busy running a dozen machines, doing quality checks, fixing problems, changing setups, and keeping production moving. The shifts flew by, and I actually looked forward to going to work.
Then one day, as spring approached, my old boss called.
His name was Fred.
"Ready to come back?" he asked.
I laughed and told him the truth.
"I don't know, Fred. I don't think I really liked it."
He paused for a second.
"How much did I pay you last year?"
"Eleven dollars an hour."
"What if I paid you thirteen?"
Well... when you're eighteen years old, two extra dollars an hour feels like you've just become a millionaire.
I said yes.
Looking back now, that decision changed far more than my paycheck.
That second year was different.
I wasn't just showing up to work anymore. I started paying attention. I spent a lot more time around Fred. I learned why we designed landscapes the way we did. I learned about customers. About quality. About doing things right the first time. About leadership.
Years later, I found myself launching a landscaping business with a friend. By then, I had worked my way from the guy pushing wheelbarrows to sales, operations, management, and went on and spent 11 years in the lawn and landscape industry.
One day I saw Fred again.
I told him something I don't think he expected to hear.
"Fred, I just wanted you to know... you were one of the biggest mentors in my career."
He looked surprised.
The funny thing is... he never tried to be my mentor. He wasn't giving motivational speeches. He wasn't taking me out for weekly leadership breakfasts. He was simply doing his job with excellence, sharing what he knew, correcting me when I needed it, and allowing a young kid to learn by watching. He probably had no idea the impact he was making.
That conversation has stuck with me ever since.
It makes me wonder how many "Freds" there have been in my life that I've forgotten to thank. It also makes me wonder if I've ever unknowingly been a "Fred" to someone else.
As followers of Jesus, I think that's something worth thinking about.
Paul told Timothy:
"And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also." (2 Timothy 2:2)
Notice the pattern.
Someone invested in Paul. Paul invested in Timothy. Timothy would invest in others, and those people would invest in even more people.
That's how the Kingdom of God has always grown.
Most of us picture mentoring as sitting across from someone with a Bible open every Tuesday morning at a coffee shop. And that's certainly one way to do it. But mentoring often happens in much quieter ways.
It happens when someone watches how you respond when life gets hard. It happens when they hear how you speak about your spouse. It happens when they see how you serve without needing recognition. It happens when they notice your integrity, your kindness, your humility, your consistency.
People are always learning from someone.
The question is...what are they learning from us?
Maybe there's been a Fred in your life. Someone who never realized the impact they made.
If there has been, maybe today is a good day to tell them.
And maybe you're a Fred for someone else without even knowing it. A younger coworker, a neighbor, a student, a child, or a new believer. Someone is watching. Someone is learning.
Someone may one day look back and realize that because of the way you lived your life, they learned how to follow Jesus a little more faithfully.
That's a pretty incredible thought.
You may never know the impact you're making, but that doesn't mean it isn't happening.
