Stories my Grandfather Told Me Page 1
Stories My Grandfather Told Me
byJoe Smart joe.smart737@gmail.com
My first memories are of living in the house my mother grew up in. It was atwo-story house, old, with a basement and a newer detached cinder-block garage myfather used as a woodshop.One day I had been driving my mother crazy and she announced that when myfather got home from work he had to take me out to the woodshop and spank me.This was serious! My father was a big man, and I was only five years old and prettysmall. But I thought it pretty fair of him when he showed me the stack of scrap woodin the shop and told me I could pick the stick he’d use to spank me.Thinking quickly, I selected a thin piece, hoping that it would break after only afew swats and he might be satisfied. He looked at me, amused, and said, “Well, Iknow what you’re thinking, but I have to tell you that thin piece is going to sting morethan a bigger stick, so it’s ok if you want to pick a different piece!”Now this was more than fair! And then I had the first epiphany of my life and,with a sorrowful look, I handed him a truly ugly, jagged two-by-four with a rusty nailsticking out of the end. He stared hard at me for a moment, then completely lost hiscomposure and burst out laughing!“Look, son,” he said, “You have to behave for your mom!” Then he told me toyell every time he clapped his hands, and he smacked his hands together and I criedout and my mom was satisfied when we walked back in the house.My father also worked in the basement, and I was not allowed to go downthere. But there was a knothole in the floor under the dining-room table, and Iremember lying on the floor, under that table, peering through the hole into theblackness of the basement, trying to see what my father was making for me forChristmas. I bumped my head on the bottom of the table, but that Christmas I foundthat he had made me a scooter, using old tail-wheels from a Piper Cub, and a re-builtbicycle. I had just turned six, and I was very happy.Soon after, we moved to live with his parents and soon after that my fatherdied.My grandfather became my primary father-figure, and to this day I feel he isperhaps the finest person I have ever encountered. Often, as I was getting ready tosleep, he would tell me a story or two. Many times they were Bible stories; David andGoliath, Daniel in the Lions’ Den, and the bravery of Shadrach, Meshach, andAbednego (often referred to as “Shake the Bed”, “Make the Bed”, and “To Bed WeGo”) in the Fiery Furnace were staples. But the story of the fox was the one he toldme most often. I have seen other versions of this story, but this is the way Iremember him telling it. And in the silence of the evening I can still hear his voice.
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If I read something I always leave a commment. I enjoyed the beginning with the wood pile as my father took me down that road as well. Thanks- Jeff Soares