Week 7 Term 3

Father’s Day Principal’s Address 2026

For his 65th birthday, I bought my dad a pair of R.M. Williams boots – a gift he’d always wanted. He had smaller feet than mine, but because he broke his foot when he was young, his feet were quite broad, so I had to buy a really wide fit boot for him. He only got to wear the boots a handful of times before he passed away suddenly a short time later.

After he died, once we finished all those painful tasks you have to do, I was sorting through his clothes and tried the boots on. Even though they were two sizes too small, I could just fit my feet in them. I figured the leather would stretch, so I kept them.

That was seven years ago. I’ve worn those boots almost every single day to school since. I’ve had them resoled a few times, but they’ve molded perfectly to the size and shape of my feet. 

Interestingly, in the few times Dad wore them, he managed to put a thin, superficial slice on the top of each boot. I can’t fix or hide those cuts – and over time, I’ve realised I don’t want to.

You see, this pair of leather boots didn’t just hold my dad’s feet; they held a part of his story.

When a father passes a legacy down to his son, it rarely arrives fitting perfectly right out of the box. His path was shaped differently than yours. A father’s journey has left him with softer and harder edges, hard-earned breaks and unique scars from the challenges he walked through. Stepping into a father’s shoes can feel uncomfortable at first, like trying to stretch into a life two sizes too small.

But like leather, fatherhood changes over time. 

As you wear what he left behind – his lessons, his values, his love – the edges soften. Over the years, through daily walks, worn-out soles and necessary repairs, our fathers story subtly reshapes itself around the contours of your own life. You don’t replace your father’s footprint; you re-mold it to carry you forward.

And as for those cuts on the top? They are still visible, permanent reminders of his life. We don’t honour our fathers despite their imperfections; we honour them because of them. Those marks remind us that our dads are human – that they walked through life, made their mark and left their imprint on us.

Father’s Day isn’t about inheriting a perfect story or stepping effortlessly into a giant’s shoes. It’s about taking the foundation your father built, honouring every scratch he earned along the way and building on his legacy until it feels like your own. 

That is the greatest gift you can give to your father.

To all the dads here this morning. Have a great day on Sunday. We are incredibly proud of your sons at Marist College Eastwood. We can see your life lessons imprinted all over them in how they treat one another and look to put their best foot forward at school.

To all the sons here today, I told you all at our Mother’s Day Mass earlier in the year the concept or idea of a Disney hug. The idea that you hug someone until they have had enough. Boys, give your dad a hug today, tomorrow and every day moving forward. It might not make your day today, but it will make your dad’s. And eventually, when you grow up and become a father yourself, it will mean just as much to you. Have a great day and God bless.