A fine
little man, so young and carefree,
He does
what he can to bring joy to me;
Listen
now as I tell you of him, friend,
All
other thoughts, for a moment, suspend:
This
boy enjoyed going to Sunday school,
And
he faithfully kept the Golden Rule,
He showed
respect to those older than he,
And
was always as kind as he could be.
He fought
great battles out on the playground,
How
he loved it when recess time came ‘round!
He liked
to play and fish and hunt and such
And
he liked to study, (but not too much…)
In his
eyes his mom and dad were the best,
(Except
at naptime when they made him rest…)
Peering
out through the window, I recall,
How
he looked for his daddy, strong and tall.
Then,
when the family all gathered ‘round
Out
at their own private burying ground
With
grandparents, cousins, and strangers, too,
How
he did hate it when it was all through!
Birthdays
were special, how he loved them so!
And
wintertime always brought with it snow!
At home
on Christmas morning – Oh! What fun!
(How
could Santa Clause get all of that done???)
The little
boy grew up as time passed on,
And
sometimes he’d forget these joys he’d known,
The
real world, he learned, was a cold, hard place…
And
a frown replaced the smile on his face.
At times,
it seemed, he would fall by the side
And
all of life’s pleasures he’d be denied;
And
he came close, more than once, I can say,
To letting
his hopes and joys slip away.
But,
thankfully, he always looked behind
To the
“little man” who lives in his mind,
To the
lessons he learned on Granddad’s knee,
(Great
wisdom these lessons helped him to see…)
He thinks
of the love in Grandmother’s face,
(He
knows in her heart he’s always a place),
He thinks
of the ones who’ve gone on before…
(And
longs to see them again on that Shore…)
Though
he misses those happy, childhood days,
He tries
to honor them in all his ways…
He cannot
be a boy again, he knows –
Yet
the boy still lives in him as he goes.
This
fine little man, so young and carefree,
I guess
you know – is none other than me.
I’m
sure there’s a child that still lives in you,
Look
for it… look hard… you do have one too.
Take
time to look back over all the years,
Remember
all the good times… and the tears;
Take
time… look real hard… recall the faces…
Go visit,
once more, the special places…
What’s
that? Some of it is painful? I know.
Still
it is worth it, to the past now go.
Be honest,
happy, and always be true…
You’ll
find it’s the best anyone can do.
H.
L. Gradowith
10-30-2001