Status: My Mother wrote this.
All Fairy Tales.
Three.
Years later, she took it out of her cupboard the little, still wrapped present, with the fairy on. With tears in her eyes she said it was the best present she ever saw, and that it meant so much to her. It was the Our Lady’s Blue Token which I had earned in the convent for some job well done. She clasped our hands together and said “Oh Sparky, so many years have gone!”
So I felt good inside my heart. Though I didn’t understand her tears then. That she should be so touched by something I had done.
I do now.
I understand sentiment and the mirth bought by innocent children, because wrapping paper is wrapping paper and if it is pink, with a fairy on it and it makes somebody laugh – then it’s a good thing? Eh? Surely.
Well, that’s my childhood – happy and simple (which is a bar of soap mind) – So many things have a double meaning – you have to be very careful these days. That’s what my Ma said. Anyway she knew best!
She’d call us, off the veranda. For our tea and cakes or biscuits and we’d sit on the steps in the shade, eating.
She told us not to sing while eating because we might choke. So we sat quiet till it was finished. We always had our picnics on those moss covered steps.
It was cool there, under the big tree. One branch hung low so we’d all pile on it, about seven of us and we’d SING!
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
And other Negro Spirituals like that. LOUD!
Me Dad would say in a growly voice- “Yer making a hell of a NOISE!” But he was only playing.
He was a Badger you see. Badgers are gruff normally but very kind, especially when we barked our knees or fell off the swing.
So I felt good inside my heart. Though I didn’t understand her tears then. That she should be so touched by something I had done.
I do now.
I understand sentiment and the mirth bought by innocent children, because wrapping paper is wrapping paper and if it is pink, with a fairy on it and it makes somebody laugh – then it’s a good thing? Eh? Surely.
Well, that’s my childhood – happy and simple (which is a bar of soap mind) – So many things have a double meaning – you have to be very careful these days. That’s what my Ma said. Anyway she knew best!
She’d call us, off the veranda. For our tea and cakes or biscuits and we’d sit on the steps in the shade, eating.
She told us not to sing while eating because we might choke. So we sat quiet till it was finished. We always had our picnics on those moss covered steps.
It was cool there, under the big tree. One branch hung low so we’d all pile on it, about seven of us and we’d SING!
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
And other Negro Spirituals like that. LOUD!
Me Dad would say in a growly voice- “Yer making a hell of a NOISE!” But he was only playing.
He was a Badger you see. Badgers are gruff normally but very kind, especially when we barked our knees or fell off the swing.