Sunday, May 3, 2009

Prose: Childhood Memories - Thin times in a small town

Backgrounder: “I mention a few lessons, in my next column (May 6), that my mother tried to teach me when I was a young boy. I think, by looking back, I jogged a few other memories too. The following prose was written just a few minutes ago.” gaharrison

thin times in a small town

where did she find
the money, that young mother
of mine, for the brand new
red CCM bicycle for
my birthday?

my brother and three sisters
never thought or felt
our family was poor.
but we knew -
if we wanted something -
we had better be prepared
to work for it.

God, what a good lesson
to learn as a young boy.

My dad had me try
one or two used bikes.
Tim Body’s didn’t fit me well
and it was hard to pedal.
I would have worked hard
for something better.

But, on my birthday,
after opening a few presents,
my mother told me
I wasn’t done yet
and said I should look
behind a tall bookcase
that hid the front door
from where I stood.

I looked and,
quite unexpectedly,
fell in love with
my new red bike.



I lovingly tip my hat to the wee girl whose father died young, who never had her own new red bike.


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