Oh how I miss Grandfather Story,
his words so full of wisdom
it dripped from his mouth like honey,
a golden gift wrapped in laughter and wonder.
We sat enraptured by his tales and songs,
we rolled to his jokes of common sense,
and acted out his stories of common courtesy.
His heart was tender and true,
as his low voice rose from his chest
and fell on our ears.
When he was silent his hands told the stories
of hard work and integrity and love,
as he crafted chimes and toys for us in his shed.
Oh how I miss Grandfather story.
He taught us more in a Sunday afternoon
than a whole week of science and math class could.
Oh I forget the very words
and know they weren't facts
but the morals and principles stuck to me like tree sap.
I hold to them now as I watch his kind fade like the forests,
replaced by technology and capitalism
where schools raise money-making machines
instead of whole people.
And the arts become quaint and unnecessary
making common sense and common courtesy
not so common.
Oh how I miss Grandfather Story
and all his sweet words of long lost wisdom.
but I am glad he passed on before
the importance of the arts were ever in question
and not before he passed them on to me.

Amber Stewart
Aug 14, 2004