Sometimes when I think about the life’s lessons my dad imparted to me — usually in ways that were not apparent at all — I’m reminded of a memorable quote from Mark Twain.

“When I was a boy of 14,” Twain said, “my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished by how much he’d learned in seven years.”

Though it has been a long time since I was 14, I am still trying to unravel some of the things my dad taught me during those years through his indirect means.

One thing he did was line up all kinds of difficult jobs for me during the summers in between school sessions. These included working in a grocery store as a stockboy and bagboy, a job at a busy filling station, a position in a furniture factory with no air-conditioning and — my all-time favorite — being a brick mason helper.

In that “gig,” I had to constantly mix up cement (or “mud” as those in the business call it), haul bricks to the masons, build scaffolds that were sometimes three stories high and then take them down when the last bricks were laid.

Of course, all of this occurred amid the searing heat of June, July and August, while being ordered around by an ex-platoon sergeant, Thomas James, a truly fine man who still resides in Stuart, Va.

With that construction job, I always was glad for the summer to end and to return to football practice so I could finally get some rest for a change.

I also was happy about that particular line of work for another reason: Whenever it rained, I did not have to report to the construction site that day.

Yet when I would wake up in the morning and laugh uproariously at the raindrops falling outside, my dad would respond with a scowl and a puff of smoke from his non-filter Camel cigarette. He then would say, “Folks still have to eat on a rainy day, you know.”

Eventually, I would learn that the reason my dad had me work all those demanding jobs was to motivate me to attend college, which I was not inclined to do as a young teen. And while working in construction is certainly a worthwhile vocation, attending a university would lead me into the journalism profession that I love so dearly.

However, I still remember my dad’s “rainy day” wisdom when every holiday season arrives — as is the case now.

During this time of year, just about every club, church, agency, business and other organization in Surry County is involved in some type of food or toy project to help the needy.

On the surface, that is a great thing, and everyone on The Mount Airy News staff is more than happy to help publicize these charitable efforts. Certainly, all those involved in making them a reality deserve a pat on the back for what they do.

The only negative thing I can say about this whole phenomenon is that there seems to be little understanding of the fact that the plight of those in need is not just an occurrence limited to November or December. A person who is starving on Thanksgiving Day probably will be just as hungry on April 7 or July 25 or some other random date on the calendar — which does contain 365 days, you know.

As those who operate food banks and similar facilities will tell you, it’s not just a matter of a club mounting some charitable effort in December and then being happy about doing their good deed for the year.

Again, I do not want to put any kind of damper on the fine work that is always accomplished throughout the holiday season. And while there are some charitable events held at other times during the year, the volume is far less than those of this period.

It would be nice if someone remembered the hardships faced by the less-fortunate on those “rainy days” to a greater extent.

Tom Joyce is a staff reporter for The Mount Airy News. He can be reached at tjoyce@mtairynews.com or 719-1924.