Lenny and My Foot

RICK WHITE

MAR 11, 2026

I know—it’s a strange title. It almost sounds like “Benny and the Jets.” But I digress…

For a long time, I’ve been deeply moved by the biblical idea of foot-washing. I actually wrote another post about it here. I still remember the first time it touched me—and it really did touch me.

I was in Catholic high school, probably sixteen or seventeen. I had a deep interest in God, even though I had not yet fully understood or accepted the gospel.

I was a co-leader of a program called Rejoice. It was a weekend retreat for kids my age where we tried to learn more about God and grow closer to Him. While planning one of those weekends, someone suggested including a foot-washing ceremony. These were called Koinonia services.

When that moment arrived, about twenty of us stood in a circle along with our priest sponsor, Father Frank Hudson—“Fud,” as we called him. I had come to know Fud through other retreats. He helped guide us and oversaw the planning of that weekend. I loved Fud. As we stood in the circle, he happened to be right next to me.

A basin was passed from one person to the next, and each person washed the feet of the person beside them.

I was near the end of the circle. As I watched, I could see how deeply people were being moved by what was happening. But somehow it didn’t occur to me that Fud would be the one washing my feet.

When the moment came, I completely lost it.

There were tears. I respected Fud so much. It just didn’t seem right that he would wash my feet. In that moment, I was experiencing something like what Peter must have felt when Jesus knelt to wash his.

To be honest, that Scripture wasn’t even in my mind at the time. The moment simply happened, and God ministered to my heart that night.

Now fast-forward more than forty years.

Today I have three grandchildren. Lenny is the middle one. She’ll be three years old in about a week. Lenny has a huge heart. She loves in a big way.

A few days ago we were playing on the couch. I was wrestling with her and tickling her, and we were both having the time of our lives. Then she wandered off for a few seconds. I didn’t think much about it.

But she came back holding a baby wipe.

She sat down and started wiping my foot.

“Grandpa, your foot is so dirty,” she said.

I was stunned. Speechless.

Before I could even process what was happening, a large lump formed in my throat. It felt like the world stopped for a moment and God was speaking again.

Jesus once said, “Let the little children come to me, for of such is the kingdom.” We often draw many conclusions from that verse, but I believe one of the central ideas is humility. Children are lowly and humble. In Jesus’ day they were often kept out of the way, especially when something important was happening. That was exactly the situation when Jesus spoke those words.

And in many ways, we still treat children like that.

But that day God pierced my heart again.

At sixty-three years old, I was experiencing the same profound truth that I had felt as a teenager. The feeling was exactly the same.

Fud shouldn’t have washed my feet. That didn’t seem right.

And Lenny shouldn’t be washing Grandpa’s feet.

Jesus showed us what love looks like in so many of His actions. When He took off His outer garment, wrapped Himself in a towel, and washed the feet of His disciples, He showed a kind of love that transforms hearts.

He transformed Peter’s heart that day.

He transformed mine through Fud all those years ago.

And the God of the universe stooped down once again—this time through sweet little Lenny—to melt my heart.

I’ll never forget it.