Southern Legitimacy Statement: A writer and self taught artist from the Appalachians of Kentucky. Chosen genres are poetry, essays, short stories, fiction and nonfiction. Artistic creations are small hand carved animals birds, fish and all sorts of other critters formed from soapstone and alabaster. website https://frogonery-creations.webnode.page/
At The Five and Dime
Memories are like fruit which ripen on the tree of life.
They tempt us to dine on their sweet rewards. Luckily for us
time has a way of preserving memories to be savored over and
over again.
With nothing more than a simple breeze, or a sunbeam
dancing on a winding stream a memory can be reborn. And, at
that moment we are filled with joy.
There are memories which I touch often, those which lighten
a heavy heart. These are the peaches and cream of my brief life.
They are well preserved within my mind, and placed conveniently
on the front shelf of the pantry. Waiting there for easy access
when I am hungry for a smile.
I have found that forgotten memories of youthful past are
seldom stirred within the soul. But, once awakened they carry
us to an age of innocence. An innocence which helped to mold
the person we have come to be.
Sometimes I drift to Saturdays of unhurried summers past.
I remember standing on the corner of Main and Court streets
with my face pressed against the window of the five and dime.
The drifting aroma of sorted candies and nuts tempting my taste
buds.
Those Saturdays are also filled with fond memories of my
Grandpa. Sometimes I would sit on the curb munching maple nut
goodies, watching and listening. He would spend hours talking
to other men who gathered by the store.
I would watch and marvel as slivers of cedarwood spiraled
from whittling sticks to fall softly to the cement walk. With
no general purpose, or design the wood yielded itself to the
sharp blades of treasured pocket knives. The fragrant shavings
occasionally being kicked lightly aside to lower a growing pile.
Between spurts of ambeer Grandpa and the others would debate
politics and farming. Worlds of wisdom could fall upon tender
ears back then. That is – if no other kids were around to engage
in youthful antics.
It would not be until I was older that I realized the worth
of those Saturdays at the five and dime. How the impact of the
endless debates would serve to mold pieces of my own being.
The weathered faces of Grandpa and the others led me to under-
stand the importance of family, friends, and the quality of
life among the eastern Kentucky hills.
The five and dime has long since closed it’s doors yielding
to mega-stores of a more modern era. The hustle and bustle of
the down town streets have slowed to a more serene atmosphere.
The corner debates of yesteryear and the tempting aromas of
a summer day are lost in time. But, maple nut goodies munched
pleasantly on a summer day can retouch memories.
I am thankful for the youthful innocence of yesterday,
and lessons learned on the corner of Main and Court Streets
at the five and dime.
August 1998
