Ellis's father was an eloquent speaker. Everyone responded excitedly when he took the stage. Week after week, Ellis would sit among the congregation, listening intently to his father's talks about love, compassion, and the virtues of maintaining a Christian life. Ellis, along with everyone else in the Primrose congregation, would diligently follow along.

But as Ellis grew older, cracks in his father’s armor began to appear. He began to notice a stark contrast between his father's words inside the kingdom hall and his actions outside the hall. Brother Anderson, though a masterful speaker, was a non-confrontational man and extremely shy in any type of combative situation. He feared ridicule and was overly concerned with looking foolish. This would cause him to shy away from difficult conversations, tiptoeing around conflicts with an almost palpable fear. This trait, rather than providing a sense of security to the Anderson family, left them feeling unprotected and vulnerable.

One sunny afternoon in Primrose, Ellis and his younger brother, Grey, were playing ball on their quiet street near their home. His brother imitating the greatest quarterback that ever lived, and Ellis imitating this star receiver. Laughter echoed as they made one phenomenal game-ending play after another. Grey would yell, “only 5 seconds left!” Then he throws the ball, “Four.” “Three.” Ellis would catch it by the red car that indicated the end zone and yell, “Touchdown!” Slamming the ball on the ground with great satisfaction. As they played back and forth, their carefree joy filling the air. However, the innocence of their play was about to be disrupted by an unexpected turn of events.

In the midst of their game, a particularly forceful throw from Grey went high up in the air and just tipped the electrical wire; the direction of the ball went awry, causing it to veer off course and fall straight down, colliding with the windshield of Mr. Jenkins' car. Oh no, they thought. They knew their father didn’t like the non-working Mr. Jenkins who could always be found fiddling on cars, fancying himself to be a competent mechanic. The young Anderson brothers watched in dismay as the ball bounced off the car, and Mr. Jenkins wasted no time descending from the front stairs of his ramshackle house, wearing a frown of indignation etched across his face.

"Look what you've done!" Mr. Jenkins bellowed, pointing accusingly at the cracked windshield. "This will cost a fortune to fix! Don’t deny it; I saw you do it!"

Panicking, Ellis, and Grey rushed toward the car and Mr. Jenkins, pleading with him to understand that it was just an accident, that the damage might not be as severe as he thought. The neighbor, however, remained obstinate, insisting that the Anderson boys were responsible for the damage.

Distressed, Ellis and Grey ran home, tears in their eyes, as they recounted the incident to their father. Expecting comfort and support, they knew their father would stand up for them and reassure Mr. Jenkins that accidents happen. However, when he went outside and spoke with Mr. Jenkins, the atmosphere at the home shifted. Their father faced the prospect of a difficult conversation with the disagreeable neighbor. As he left that conversation, Mr. Abney, who lived next door to Mr. Jenkins, came out and spoke alone with their father. The boys were happy because they could see their father’s mood lightening as he spoke with Mr. Abney.

At the dinner table that evening, Ellis and Grey listened as their father talked tough, vowing to protect his boys and maintain their innocence. He said, "Tom Abney saw me talking to Janky Jenkins and filled me in on some information that I didn’t know. He told me that that windshield was already cracked, that it happened last week, that the car isn’t even his, that he’s been working on it and doesn’t know how to fix it.” The father said, “I’m not paying him a dime; he’s such a deadbeat.” The boys were satisfied and pleased! Yet, days later, when the moment of truth arrived and Brother Anderson stood face to face with Mr. Jenkins, a different reality unfolded.

Rather than defending his sons with the same conviction he displayed at home, Brother Anderson seemed to shrink in the presence of conflict. His words faltered, and he avoided direct confrontation, succumbing to Mr. Jenkins' accusations without putting up a fight. The boys, watching from a distance, as their father forked over large sums of money to, one can only assume, fix an already cracked windshield. The boys felt a profound sense of disappointment and confusion. When their father walked back to the house, the boys pummeled him with questions, “Did you pay him?” “Why did you give him money?” “Dad, I thought he was a good for nothing, deadbeat?” "What about what Mr Abney said?" Brother Anderson quickly shut down any questioning, “Grey, don’t speak that way! We’re Christians, and we don’t behave that way. Ellis, we always turn the other cheek when injured, just like Jesus.”

This incident left an indelible mark on Ellis and Grey. Instead of feeling the security they sought in their father's strength, they experienced a deep sense of vulnerability. At that moment, in his mind, Ellis decided that he would never cower to anyone, even if his life depended on it. The dichotomy between Brother Anderson's tough talk at home and his avoidance in the face of conflict shattered the illusion of protection they had once felt. The lesson Ellis drew from this experience was clear—true strength wasn't just about talking tough; it was about standing firm when faced with adversity, even if it meant having difficult conversations and confronting uncomfortable truths.

The irony was not lost on young Ellis. His father, who preached about courage, honesty, and standing up for what is right, seemed to embody none of these qualities in his daily life. Instead, his father would use his non-confrontational demeanor as a shield, a facade that proclaimed his Christian virtues to the world while avoiding the challenges that demanded true strength.

Growing disillusioned, Ellis couldn't help but question the authenticity of his father's beliefs. He observed not only Brother Anderson's reluctance to confront wrongdoing but also what he thought of as the tendency of many in the congregation to hide behind a veil of mildness that masked a deeper fear—a fear of consequences rather than a genuine commitment to goodness.

Ellis’ resolve to never back down or cower began to manifest itself in his school life. Frustrated by the perceived weakness he witnessed in his father's non-confrontational approach; Ellis adopted a different stance. His newfound determination led him to challenge authority and speak out against injustices, quickly earning him a reputation as a troublemaker among his peers and teachers.

Getting in trouble at school was no problem for Ellis to handle at home, for he knew that his father wouldn’t confront him about it; he would simply pout in petulant annoyance, which Ellis could easily handle. Fueling his desire for self-defense, Ellis kept his father off balanced by constantly requesting boxing or karate lessons, eager to acquire the skills needed, as he would put it, to stand his ground against bullies. His pursuit of martial arts wasn't just about physical strength but represented a symbolic rebellion against the avoidance tactics he had observed in his father.

One day, as Ellis was engrossed in a Bruce Lee VHS tape that included an interview of him discussing the making of his latest movie, Ellis was captivated by Lee's revelation that he became a better fighter when he developed mildness while maintaining strength. Intrigued, Ellis found himself questioning whether true strength was achieved not just through sheer willpower but through the cultivation of this elusive quality. It was a moment of clarity that prompted Ellis to turn to his faith. Inspired by the teachings of the Bible, he knew that mildness was an aspect of the fruitage of the spirit; he began to pray earnestly to Jehovah for His Holy Spirit. In his prayers, Ellis sought divine assistance in cultivating the beautiful quality of mildness, understanding that it was not synonymous with cowardice. His quest for strength now took a new form, blending the physical and the spiritual as he sought a balance between gentleness and fortitude.

In the midst of his spiritual journey, Ellis had a transformative experience that solidified his understanding of mildness. He discovered stories of faithful Christians throughout history who, when confronted by opposers, responded with genuine mildness, leaving a lasting and favorable impression on their oppressors, eventually converting the entire Roman Empire. These individuals stood firm in their convictions without resorting to aggression or avoidance. A mild person does not get easily upset but is able to control himself when faced with frustrations and uncertainties (Proverbs 15:1).

One particular account resonated with Ellis, highlighting how a mild response could disarm hostility and exemplify strength of character. This realization became a guiding principle for Ellis as he embraced a path that led not only to physical strength but also to the true embodiment of mildness, reflecting the qualities of a tamed yet powerful spirit.

As Ellis grappled with these revelations, he sought understanding in the roots of the word "mildness." Upon reading that the word originated from a Greek term used to describe a once-wild horse that had been tamed, the image of a powerful, untamed creature transformed into a gentle, manageable being struck a chord with Ellis.

True mildness, he realized, was not about hiding behind a disguise, or avoiding challenges. It was about being like the tamed horse—gentle yet strong, workable, malleable, able to harness one's power without succumbing to aggression. He started viewing mildness as a strength, not a weakness, realizing that it takes inner strength to keep calm when facing a trying situation. The lesson was clear: as humans, one could develop mildness and strength simultaneously.

Ellis yearned to see true mildness in action, to witness how a person could remain calm in the face of frustration and uncertainty without resorting to avoidance. He turned his attention from the instinctive brute to the one that exhibited self-control, like Jesus had to do on the night of his death. He understood that mildness was not a mask to hide behind but a virtue that demanded self-control and genuine strength of character. 

Armed with this newfound understanding, Ellis embarked on a journey to redefine the concept of mildness for himself and, perhaps, for his father and the Primrose congregation. The wild horse within, he believed, could be tamed without losing its strength—just as true mildness could coexist with unwavering courage.

Thank you for reading,
-Soli Jehova Gloria (1 Corinthians 10:31)