Another smash #1 New York Times Bestseller, Tim Russert’s WISDOM OF OUR FATHERS is not only a fitting companion to his own marvelous memoir, but also a celebration of the positive qualities passed down from generation to generation.

After the publication of Tim Russert's #1 New York Times Bestseller about his father, Big Russ & Me, he received an avalanche of letters from daughters and sons who wanted to tell him about their own fathers, most of whom were not superdads or heroes but ordinary men who were remembered and cherished for some of their best moments of advice, tenderness, strength, honor, discipline, and occasional eccentricity. Heartfelt, humorous, engaging and bound to bring back memories of unforgettable moments with our own fathers, this book is for all fathers, young or old, who can learn from these men how to get it right, and to understand that sometimes it is the little gestures that can make the big difference for your child.

Small

Moments

"In the years when my parents were broke, Dad would give Mom a daisy for each year they were married."

-Donna Pizzolongo, daughter of George E. Raboni Sr.

Small moments? It's often those little gestures-a knowing look, a pat on the back, an unexpected kindness-that make a big impression and shape our favorite memories. When I came home from college to visit, by the time I woke up in the morning Big Russ had already cleaned my car inside and out (windows too) and filled up the gas tank. I once realized too late that I had left behind evidence of a spirited evening the night before, but Dad was nice enough not to mention it.

Dad's small moments weren't limited to me. When one of my sisters had a hard time, especially after breaking up with a boyfriend, Mom would console her, of course, but Dad would be there too, trying to change the subject-often with some good humor. He didn't always know how to comfort his daughters, but he always tried, and they appreciated his efforts.

As a new father, I looked forward to providing some small moments for my son, and I hope there have been many. I have also been on the receiving end of quite a few, and they started very early. When Luke was two, I went to China with the Today Show. My wife, Maureen, flew over to join me for the final week, leaving Luke with her mother and sister in San Francisco. It was difficult for us to be away from him for so long, and on the flight home I actually found myself wondering if our little boy would remember us. When the plane landed in California, we went through customs, picked up our luggage, and looked up to the glass-enclosed balcony where family and friends were waiting to greet the passengers. And there, next to his grandmother, was our little Luke, jumping up and down with excitement. My heart pounded. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

Flash forward about sixteen years. When Luke was graduating from high school, his class asked me to give the commencement address. It was a great honor, but this was the most difficult speech of my life: I had to say something meaningful and inspiring without in any way embarrassing my son. I spoke from the heart and gave the class a kind of blessing: "May you always love your own children as much as your parents love you, as much as Maureen and I love our Luke." I must have passed the test, because when I finished speaking, the class rose to its feet in appreciation-led by Luke.

Then, one by one, the students came up to receive their diplomas. When it was Luke's turn, the headmaster motioned for me to take over for a moment. Neither Luke nor I had been prepared for this possibility, and again I wondered how he would react. To my delight, when I gave him the diploma, I received a rib-crushing bear hug from my six-foot-two baby boy. I actually had to say, "Luke, enough. Put me down!" His classmates laughed. It was funny, but there was more in that embrace than humor.

The graduating seniors received their yearbooks that day, and each student had been given a full page to reflect on his high school career. That night, when I got into bed, I began flipping through Luke's copy. His page began with expressions of gratitude. "Dad," said the first one, "you're the driving force behind it all, and my best friend in the world. Thanks for always having my back. I love you."

Now if you had asked me to identify a specific moment when I had Luke's back, I couldn't point to one. He was reminding me that tender moments are the ultimate...