The following is an 83rd birthday poem to my grandchildren. Although it’s not written in formal poetry form, my hope is you will consider publishing this for many children, not just my own grandchildren.
There Was a Time
There was a time when we “welcomed” summer with open windows and fresh air, and wondered at the bird singing in the tree outside the bedroom window in the early morn.
There was a time when the ice man drove his truck up the street carrying the ice to put in your ice box to chill the milk that the milkman had left on your doorstep before the sun could rise.
There was a time when party lines were lots of fun. You could listen in and get the latest news floating ’round your town.
There was a time when just a dial up connected you to your cross-town friend and a long extension cord led you into privacy behind a closet door.
There was a time when your neighbor was your trusted friend who held the keys to your home when you were away.
There was a time when children said “yes, ma’am” and adults gave candy bars for good behavior and heard the sweet answer of “thank you.”
There was a time when “pot” was a large container where Grandma cooked your favorite soup and you anxiously awaited supper as though it was the king’s banquet.
There was a time when loading a dishwasher was not annoying because it didn’t exist.
A sink of hot sudsy water and another sink of hot rinsing water was all you needed to wash each meal’s dishes. A drying towel finished the task.
There was a time when you pushed the “clutch” and then the “gas” to move the car, and speeding was the maximum you drove according to the sign limit posted on the road.
There was a time when Daddy threatened, “Don’t take the keys out of the car,” not fearing a thief would drive it away, but fearing they would get lost in some unknown spot in your home.
There was a time when a walk to the library was worth all the gold in the world and the history books there reminded you of how far we had come with all our riches of life … family, friends, and love.
There was a time when the clothes on my back were sewn by the fluttering fingers of my mother.
The love upon the cloth those hands had held and stitched so delicately was worth far more than the Montgomery Ward catalog could ever match.
There was a time when people greeted one another with a smile and hello no matter if you knew each other or were just a passer-by.
The idea of a “smothering” mask was left to ancient history of long ago with untrusting, doubtful Venetians.
Oh, yearn for just some of yesteryear ...
Yes, today there are inventions, and opportunities that we didn’t have, but ...
To replace the love and warmth that penetrated that air with the “hostile, bustle, distracting” world we have today negates all the wonders that lie in between.
Someday, maybe, God will decide we’ve suffered enough, and ... then we will return.
Sandra Griffin
South Carolina
