Monday, November 16, 2009

Watch Out For the Sword!

When I was three, I owned a sword made of paper. The paper was wrapped around a stick, and when you thrust the stick at someone, the sword came alive with a slithery sound. It hurled out of its hiding place, and it seemed it could reach across the room.
It was made in China and it cost a dollar. I didn’t have a dollar, but my mama did and she bought that sword for me.
With that sword, I attacked the big people in my life. There was my aunt, taking the pictures with her camera. There was my mother, cowering before the sword. There was my grandfather, running away from me and my mighty sword. There were dogs that ran from me.
In the bedroom was the travel DVD player, playing that new movie “Green Eggs and Ham” but I couldn’t care less. I was a warrior with my paper sword. Let me at the big people; let me whack them with my magic sword and make them smaller and less powerful than me.
Oh, it made me laugh to attack with that paper sword. I got the giggles so bad, I almost wet my britches. People hid around corners from me. I made my last stand on the sofa in the sunroom.
My aunt, the photographer, didn’t flinch when I zoomed her with my sword. The dogs ran away, and my grandfather stayed away too. Mama flinched in the corner like a scaredy bird. I won them all, those big people. My paper sword was mightier than all of them.
A story written by Jacob at the age of three, with help from his great-aunt Chris, who is grateful to have him and his mama, Allison, god-daughter and niece, staying at our house, where paper swords rule the day.
Thank God for the simple joys of childhood.

For Jacob

My boy is a sprite, stiff-legged in flight;
in search of a toy, he weaves left and right
smiling a smile chock full of sweet guile.
Without even trying, his actions beguile.

I chase him to save his small body from harm.
I race him and snatch him up in my arms.
He wiggles and squiggles and tries to get down:
He’s fluid with motion, brimming with sound.

I’m tired and wish he’d be still but he won’t.
He loves sticks and stones and really I don’t.
I offer a book or an educational toy,
But he wants my good crystal, my contrary boy.

Every day is discovery for this little man.
The richest of treasures he holds in his hand.
So simple his needs but baffling too.
No matter what happens, each moment is new.


Chris Alba © 2009

11 comments:

Shadow said...

well, this little boy is totally happy and enthralled with his all-powerful sword... what can be greater than the imagination materialised in his hands.

Nessa said...

What a wonderful way to make memories. I had a sword like that. Fun like you described.

Mnday's MeMe - One is not like the Others

Brian Miller said...

every day is discovery..i think that is where the kids have the advantage...

i used to have one of those chinese yo-yo swords...got it on vacation at kitty hawk...such fun!

Lou said...

You will see the world through his eyes! What a blessing.

big Jenn said...

My husband was talking to me about one of these paper swords the other day and how much he loved it. I think it's cool that you wrote about it today. I love the poem too.jeNN

Tall Kay said...

The story and poem bring back so many sweet memories. What a little cutie! It sounds like you had a wonderful weekend!

Gabriella Moonlight said...

The poem is amazing...wow, what a testament to your dear heart!!!

Those paper swords, I had many growing up and loved them...every inch of them!

thank you for the memory today!
g

Dulce said...

The power of the sword no matter its material...
Lovely depiction of a moment of yours and other's life.

I loved it!

the walking man said...

paper even without pen laid upon it is often times mightier than a blade. I love when I am near the wee ones but I prefer to visit them because it is easier to leave. Ha ha ha.

Syd said...

Really neat. I think that those simple joys are still with us if we choose to find them.

swapnap said...

I agree, each moment is new and they seem to hold up so much of treasures....to be discovered.

Albert Einstein Quotes