|
Listen Carefully |
|
When They Speak |
Poppy
Respect The Elderly
Poppy
The car turned into the driveway that led up the hill to Poppy and Nanna's house. Ginny could see Poppy sitting in his rocking chair on the front porch. Before the car was halfway up the driveway, Ginny said, "Hi, Poppy."
Poppy saw his daughter's car as it pulled into the driveway. A smile crossed his face as he saw his granddaughter waving from the car seat. "Hi, Poppy," Ginny said as the car stopped in front of the house.
The two words that Poppy enjoyed hearing most were "Hi Poppy." Ginny's mother got out and walked around the car and unbuckled Ginny from the car seat.
"Hi, Poppy," Ginny said again as she ran to the front steps of the porch. She climbed up the steps and ran across the porch to where her Poppy was sitting in his rocking chair. Ginny climbed up on his lap and gave Poppy a big hug. "Poppy, tell me a story," she said .
"O K," said Poppy. "What story would you like to hear?"
"I want to hear the story about the Little Red Wagon.
Poppy told lots of stories. He told stories about birds, rabbits, turtles and little girls. Once, he even told a story about a skunk. But the story she liked to hear the most was the story about the Little Red Wagon. It reminded her so much of herself; it almost seemed as if it were real. The stories that were read to her at the day-care center were always stories about people and things in far away places. But these stories that Poppy told where things that happened in his own back yard.
When Poppy finished the story, Ginny crawled down from his lap and went into the house. "Hi, Nanna,"she said. "Poppy told me a story. I like Poppy's stories."
"Hi, Ginny," Nanna said as she gave her a hug.
One day, a few weeks later, when Ginny came out to visit her Poppy, he was out in the front yard playing in the dirt with a stick. "Hi, Poppy," she said. "What are you doing?"
"Hi, Ginny. I'm going to plant a tree."
"Oh, a tree! Can I help?" She asked.
"Sure you can help," Poppy said.
Ginny ran to the porch and came running back with a little plastic shovel. "Where's the tree?" Ginny said as she looked around.
Poppy reached down and picked up the stick. "This is the tree. It's just a little stick now. But it will grow to be a big tree." Poppy placed the tree in the hole and Ginny started raking dirt in around it with her little plastic shovel. He helped her rake dirt in around the tree, and explain to her how they had to put water on it to make it grow so it wouldn't die.
"I'll tell you what," Poppy said. "We will call this tree, the Ginny Tree."
"Oh goody," Ginny said. "You named a tree for me?"
After the tree was planted, they went into the house to wash their hands. Poppy went out on the front porch to set in his rocking chair. Ginny came out and crawled up in his lap. "Poppy, tell me a story."
"O.K. There was this little squirrel burying a nut in the ground," said Poppy.
"No! No! I want to hear the story about the Little Red Wagon," Ginny said.
As he told the story, Ginny sat very quite in his lap and listened to every word.
"Hi, Poppy! Hi, Poppy!"
"Who are you talking to Mommy?" "Who's Poppy?"
It was then that Ginny realized that she had been dreaming of a time years ago. She looked over at the empty rocking chair that sat beside her and looked into the eyes of her little girl standing there shaking her arm.
"Mommy! Mommy! I want to swing."
"O. K.", said Ginny. "Go get in your swing and I'll push you."
As she walked out to the Ginny Tree and looked up at how tall it had grown, Ginny remembered the day that she and Poppy had planted it. And she thought how sad it was that her own daughter didn't have a Poppy.
Herbert Smith
1995
Jim knew they had to hurry, but the ride was awfully rough and painful. As the gurney was rushed down the hallway, it seemed that every crack in the floor was like going over a big boulder. He was in a lot of pain, and Jim knew that his injuries were serious.
Suddenly, his life was passing before his eyes. He was five years old and running through the house, hollering, and having fun, as kids will do. His Mother's boyfriend was laying on the couch. Joe, he thought his name was, but he wasn't sure. There had been so many. "Hey, you little bastard! Why don't you go out in the street and play?" Jim didn't like this man. In fact, he didn't like any of the men that his mother had over.
In the next scene, he was in the third grade. It was recess, and all the children were in the playground. Some of the kids were in a circle, holding hands, and running around Jim. But it wasn't "Ring Around the Mulberry Bush" that they were singing. Jim sat on the ground with the circle of kids running around him. "Jimmy's a bastard, Jimmy's a bastard," they were shouting! Jim knew that he was a bastard because his mother had explained it to him, and she didn't know who was his father. What he didn't understand was why the other kids always made fun of him.
The years passed, and Jim had gone through most of his childhood being called a bastard. He never understood it, and didn't like it, but he did learn to live with being called that awful name.
When your life passes before your eyes, it goes by real fast. Jim was now a senior in High School. He was running in a track meet. It was the hundred-yard dash, and he knew that he was the one who was going to break the ribbon. He was giving it all he had, and he could hear the spectators shouting. There was one spectator he heard exceptionally clear. "Look at that bastard run!" the man shouted. After High School, Jim joined the military. Now, he would get some respect. It was the first day of Boot Camp, and all the recruits were in some sort of formation on the parade ground. There were two men standing in front of, and facing them. The meanest looking one of the two shouted, "I am Sargent Bracket, and this is Sargent Mackay! We will be your mother and your father! And by the way, we are not married! You know what that makes you! That's right, maggots, you're all bastards!"
The military wasn't for him. When his hitch was over, Jim accepted a life as a civilian. He went from town to town, working different jobs. He never married, and was somewhat of a loner. While walking home from work one night, two muggers attacked him from out of the darkness. Laying there on the pavement in semi-consciousness, Jim heard one of the muggers speak. "Let's kill the bastard," he said. The sound of approaching sirens had saved his life. With police cars coming to the scene, the two muggers ran off into the darkness.
The scenes from Jim's life abruptly stopped. The pain he was experiencing was unbearable. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but a bright light. The light wasn't what he expected, though. He was in an emergency room of a hospital. In great pain, and barely conscious, Jim could hear voices way off in the distance. "If we don't get this bleeding stopped, this poor bastard's going to die!"
The pain suddenly stopped, and Jim knew that his time on this earth was over. He smiled. "I'm going home. I won't be a bastard anymore, and today, I will meet my Father."
Floyd H. Smith, Jr.
Sept. 25, 2003
After resting for awhile, Herbert arose from his chair, and spoke to his wife who was busy in the kitchen. "I'm going back out to the shop and do a little more work." Brenda walked over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Honey, you've been working on that rocking chair for over a year. Why couldn't you just go buy one like everyone else?" Brenda knew her husband well. After all, they'd been married for forty years. She knew he wasn't about to buy something he could build himself. "It won' be much longer, I'm nearly finished," Herbert said. "I have a little more sanding to do, and tomorrow I can put the finish on it."
Over the years Herbert had built a few things for the house, such as small tables and lamps. But this rocking chair was a special project, with a special purpose. He had long thought about the days of his retirement. Sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch with the cool summer breeze blowing across his face. Just a-sitting in the chair, rocking and waiting for the mailman to deliver his Social Security check. Besides, what else is a crippled up old man supposed to do?
Brenda and Herbert were very fortunate. They had planned well for their retirement years. The dream house they had built was finished a few years ago. The house is located on a hill in the country with lots of trees. A friend of theirs had given them a porch glider, and they frequently sat in the glider watching the birds and the squirrels at the feeders placed among the trees. There is a long drive-way which curves down the hill among the trees to the main road. When the mailman arrives, especially on the day the Social Security check comes, Herbert will take his walking stick and walk down the long drive-way to the mailbox. There is just something about walking down to get that check that Herbert really looks forward to.
"Well, just don't stay out there and wear yourself down like you usually do," Brenda said. After entering the shop, Herbert looked at the rocking chair and wondered why he had waited so long to build it. No matter. It was nearly finished now. "Over a year of work, just to sit in this rocking chair and wait for the mailman to deliver my Social Security check", he said aloud. Then he thought, "It will be well worth it". Herbert went right to work. He was really anxious now, after working so long, and the end in sight. The sanding was soon finished, and Herbert stood back and admired his work. He would put the finish on it tomorrow, let it dry, and get his neighbor to help carry it to the porch.
Herbert awoke early the next morning, more anxious than ever about finishing the chair. Brenda would be surprised, he wasn't usually up this early. Gently getting out of the bed, so as not to wake his wife, he noticed Brenda was already up. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw his wife sitting at the table holding a cup of coffee out to him, and a big smile on her face. "Fooled you, didn't I", she said. "I knew you'd be up early this morning". "You think you know me pretty well don't you", Herbert replied as he took the coffee and sat down.
After the usual small talk Brenda said, "You haven't forgotten what today is, have you?" "No I haven't ", he answered. "And I have plenty of time".
Upon hastily finishing the coffee, Herbert headed for the door. "Will you call our good neighbor for me and tell him I'll need his help moving the chair in a little while?"
By noon, the rocking chair was on the porch. All the hours of hard work were finally over. With Herbert sitting in the rocking chair, and Brenda sitting in the glider by herself, she remarked, "If you don't slow down, your going to rock that chair right off the porch." "I know," Herbert replied, " I'm just kinda excited." But Brenda didn't stop there. "Well, you slow it down, I don't want to be picking you up off the ground." "I'm going into the house."
Herbert settled into a gentle rocking of the chair and waited for the mailman to bring his Social Security check. He was starting to get worried. The mailman was later than usual. Finally, he heard the honk of the mailman's truck, up the road at the neighbor's house. The mailman always honked at the neighbor's house. " It's my turn next", Herbert thought as he reached for his walking stick.
When Herbert retrieved the mail from the mailbox, he didn't see the brown envelope that his Social Security check came in. In a panic, he sorted through the envelopes. It wasn't there. He took out his reading glasses and looked through the letters again. He found a letter from Social Security, but it was in a white envelope. With his hands shaking, Herbert tore the letter open. He was completely flabbergasted as he read the contents of the letter. It read: For your convenience, we will now be depositing your monthly Social Security payment in your bank electronically through direct deposit.
Floyd H. Smith
April 4, 2002