Tiny Town Events - 2nd Half -- Text With Illustration
THIS IS THE SECOND 1/2 of my "Tiny Town Events" piece, posted separately, (one half at a time), due to Poetry Soup's poem maximum-length requirement.
To enjoy the entire story, you'll need to first go to Poetry Soup and search - "Poems by Mark Stellinga" - and locate - and read - the 1st half before reading this 2nd portion. It's a wonderful story so I hope you'll check out my pieces on the soup. Note: It's also posted in its AUDIO version. PS: I've also posted it in an AUDIO version.
With attributes that only those who know him come to see. And though he seemed quite feeble, and he had to use a cane,
I could tell that Ed was strong. The quiet kind of man…that’s quick to show his tender side…and works to hide his pain.
And Bertha was the perfect wife for someone just like Ed. Her gentle, sweet demeanor spoke of wise and tender ways.
And you could see the love they’d shared for many, many years was helping to sustain them as they coursed their autumn days.
After we had eaten homemade-ice-cream-covered-pie, a struggling Bertha crossed the room and turned the “wireless” down.
“That was what I heard,” I said, “while walking down the highway. The music was just beautiful, as I came into town.
“This is really kind of you…to let me stay the night. You have to let me pay you for the place to stay and all.”
“Oh my heavens,” Bertha laughed, “we couldn’t take a penny. I see it’s getting rather late…you’d better make your call.”
My eyes would moisten briefly as they stood there…holding hands…and Bertha softly told me, “Son…stop makin’ such a fuss.
We’re really glad to have you stay…breakfast is at 6…..an’ we ain’t got no doubt at all you’d do the same for us.”
After telling Connie that the car had broken down, and I’d be staying over in a town with no motel,
Ed and Bertha smiled to hear me say, “I love you, too.” And by the time the call had ended, everyone could tell
That I was actually feeling pretty good about my plight. And when I turned and said to them, “You know…I’m awfully fond
Of fishing, but I don’t suppose you’d know if Thelma’s bunch would mind if one more tagged along - to fish on Miller’s pond?”
Bertha’s eyes were watering as she reached to touch my arm. “Of course they won’t,” she softly said, “and, son… are you in luck.
There’s always lots of extra poles. I’ll call her after breakfast, and let her know she’ll need to swing on by here with the truck.
“I’m sure you’ll catch a lot o’ fish, and when she brings ya’ home, we’ll fry ‘em up right here and have a good, old fashioned dinner. Ya’ know, they say that eatin’ fish is good for losin’ weight…but me and Ed eat lots o’ fish…and we ain’t got no thinner!”
There it was again. Another…“tiny town event.” The things they said…and how they said them…warmed me up inside.
And I’ll tell you a secret…when I went to bed that night…I said a little thank you prayer - because my car had died!
The ice cream was fantastic, and the music soft and sweet. The breakfast was delicious, and I’ve never slept so good.
The soft, hard-water shower had a fragrance all its own. And when the truck arrived to fetch me - like she said it would -
Seven giggling children filled the box with happy smiles, as Ed and Bertha watched an eager “city-boy” jump in,
And we would head for what turned out to be without a doubt, for me, as sweet a morning’s fun as there has ever been.
Close to four hours later Thelma dropped me off at noon, and Bertha took the fish I’d caught and put them on the stove,
Then told me, “Me and Ed run down the road and got your car. He said be sure to tell ya’ that he liked the way it drove.
“He’ll be back in just a bit, he run to get some flour…an’ you don’t owe us nothin’…it was just a belt was loose.
Ed had nothin’ else to do, and loves to tink with cars, an’ I was glad to get a chance to put that man to use.”
There it was again…another “tiny town event.” They did me such a favor, yet they saw it as…routine!
And I could not have told you what a tiny town was like before that day, but now I know exactly what they mean.
Sadly…I have not returned for thirty-seven years, and, like a ton of other “ought to’s” where the same is true…
I have often told my wife that - if we got the chance - going there to see those folks was something we should do.
She’d agreed as many times, but still…we never did, and my commutes for business ended many years ago.
I’ll bet, today, that Miller’s pond is hemmed by fancy houses…and if it is…to tell the truth…I wouldn’t want to know.
It couldn’t have been too many years before they passed away, but I’ve relived that evening many times on starry nights,
Walking down that quiet road that led me to their home. I’ve heard their lovely music…seen the soft inviting lights…
And both their smiling faces fill my very sweetest dreams. I’ve even smelled the frying fish that Bertha fixed at noon.
And pie and ice cream always makes me think about that night, for it was very special…and it ended far too soon.
Still, today, I’ve never had a better stroke of luck. That overheated car was like a blessing from above.
And through the cherished moments of those “tiny town events,” I learned the art of kindness…and the lasting power of love.
FYI: I'll be posting a bunch of my AUDIO files over the next few months, most from my 4 new AUDIO-CDs, along with many more text files from my several books of verse. (Only a few CDs and books left - 2-6-21).
Because, as with most poets, it simply depends on the mood I’m in at writing time, my verse, as you’ll discover, varies greatly from lightheartedly comical pieces to meaningfully poignant works. If you happen to like my style, and appreciate the variety, please visit my website’s at - www.writerofbooks.com.
Cheers,
Mark Stellinga
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