With thanks to Nick , :)
Dad would look out fore scraps of wood . Out of wich he'd get to thinking ''Now I wonder what I can make with lot!!''. As time went on he'd start what I can only can only disribde as '' create'' a great gift. One year he craited a black bourd , it was a master pease. Watching it daily being creaited was a wonder fore us all.
Guesing what he was makeing fore us.
He made a lorry , a garige , WITH working lights!!. He was amazing , yet he had never been trained in working with wood. He was just a natrealy gifted man.
One time he found a beet up old pedal repelled car. It was a wreck , abandoned on a long abandand railway cuting. Dad took it home , panald beeted all the dents out of it. Till it was all smothde ouit. Then he rumbde it down , them came the paiting , dad put more layers of red paint than any RolsRoyse! Weeks going in to months he workde on my car. It eas such a joy weacvhing dad loveingly rebuliding that pedalcar. Come Christmas day it was ready , I recon that was my besdest Christmas. No other kid had what I had that morning. As dad and mum ernt beter money , most of our Christmas prestants were from the shops. But Christmases were never the same tho.
I am glad that he was abule to make gifts for my nefurs , tho by then he'd lost the sight of one eye. Made them a castle , compleat with turrets As I type this I remem ber he made me a castale , comlpeat with lead solgers. Gurds band with soldgers marching. Well the danger of lead was not made publike. If it had been , then we that is the whole family would have been denied great pleshure.
Christmas past , yes poverty , but only in money. Not in the great gifts I with my sisters enjoyed.
Ken D Williams ( THE DYSLEXIC POET )
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Short story by ken d williams
Read 791 times
Written on 2007-12-17 at 17:06
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CHRISTMAS PAST MEMORYS!
When I was a kid , Christmas was pore . In that dad was not on a lot of money, tho mum workde made littke difference. where I live it was and is high unemployment and a low wage ecomaney. Dads father sending a little money paid fore a chicken . That probly died of age!!! . Mind she gave us some eggs , that was still inside her!Dad would look out fore scraps of wood . Out of wich he'd get to thinking ''Now I wonder what I can make with lot!!''. As time went on he'd start what I can only can only disribde as '' create'' a great gift. One year he craited a black bourd , it was a master pease. Watching it daily being creaited was a wonder fore us all.
Guesing what he was makeing fore us.
He made a lorry , a garige , WITH working lights!!. He was amazing , yet he had never been trained in working with wood. He was just a natrealy gifted man.
One time he found a beet up old pedal repelled car. It was a wreck , abandoned on a long abandand railway cuting. Dad took it home , panald beeted all the dents out of it. Till it was all smothde ouit. Then he rumbde it down , them came the paiting , dad put more layers of red paint than any RolsRoyse! Weeks going in to months he workde on my car. It eas such a joy weacvhing dad loveingly rebuliding that pedalcar. Come Christmas day it was ready , I recon that was my besdest Christmas. No other kid had what I had that morning. As dad and mum ernt beter money , most of our Christmas prestants were from the shops. But Christmases were never the same tho.
I am glad that he was abule to make gifts for my nefurs , tho by then he'd lost the sight of one eye. Made them a castle , compleat with turrets As I type this I remem ber he made me a castale , comlpeat with lead solgers. Gurds band with soldgers marching. Well the danger of lead was not made publike. If it had been , then we that is the whole family would have been denied great pleshure.
Christmas past , yes poverty , but only in money. Not in the great gifts I with my sisters enjoyed.
Ken D Williams ( THE DYSLEXIC POET )
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Short story by ken d williams
Read 791 times
Written on 2007-12-17 at 17:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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