DIPPING INTO THE PAST
The camaraderie was very meaningful
between my younger brother and myself..
We were raised during the Great Depression
and we made our own fun, as other children
did, sharing what little we had. Boredom
was never in our vocabulary.
One Christmas there was a pair of roller
skates, for he and I to share, and sometimes
we each wore a skate as we raced downhill
with the joyous freedom of childhood.
There were newspaper kites to send flying,
made from Sunday’s colorful comics,
balsa wood, and a tail of knotted
lisle stockings. With a little adjustment
they soared like eagles on a thermal flow.
Simple objects were the source of summer
fun, such as stilts and our tin-can walking
cleats. The stilts made us feel very daring
and brave, but we loved the sound of those noisy
cleats as they clickity-clacked on the sidewalk.
We thought the noise was simply delicious.
Our tree house was an exciting adventure.
Making it was more fun than using it,
but we had great picnics up there all summer,
with the welcome mat out for everyone.
Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted
so much better up there, than anywhere.
The tree provided our desert in season,
as we’d reach out the window for fresh mulberries.
Winter wasn’t left out in our home-made
fun. A toboggan made of sheet tin and saplings
gave us many hours of snowy enjoyment.
Sliding downhill with the wind in our faces,
until the cold made us go inside for a warm-up.
Sadly, my brother left this world when barely
out of his teens, leaving a huge empty
spot in my life. But he lives on in memory,
racing down the sidewalk with those shared roller
skates. Running down hill with kites flying
behind us. Making noise with tin-can cleats clinging
to our shoes as we clanked down the sidewalk.
Treasured memories of a beloved brother.
9/6/95 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck
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