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Thought For The Day

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The way others treat you is a reflection of them; the way you treat others, (and the treatment you accept) is a reflection of you.

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A Trip To The Post Office

 

I adore this little town called Holmes because, you see,

It has the perfect combination of dear folk for me.

When we came here, it was barely 1994-

It was the year of 20 snowstorms, (I wished that there were more).

 

Here we are 2003, and I am right at home . . .

Amid the trees, the deer and mountains, who could feel alone?

 

Well, back then when we just moved in, the post office was just

Inside a little trailer . . . you could laugh so loud, you’d bust.

You see, I came from Queens and so life there, as you may know,

Compared to this small town was, well, let’s just say this one’s slow.

A few years passed and soon Holmes built a building proud and tall,

So modern and so beautiful, some said it did beat all.

 

Today is January 13, 2003,

And here is what my trip to send a package did for me:

I walked right up to Mary, and she smiled and said my name.

I handed her my package and, I greeted her the same.

Behind me was a woman with red lipstick and pink blush,

And last in line a quiet man stood, clearly in no rush.

He also smiled and gently stroked rough whiskers on his chin.

The missing teeth and soft green twinkling eyes defined his grin.

Upon his head a brown fur hat, his coat hung large and long-

Yet this old man did not seem frail – his voice so sure and strong.

 

We chatted lightly all about the cold and biting frost.

We each guessed what the wind chill was, and then he laughed and tossed

His head back as he shared a tale of years passed fast and free,

The story this man shared this morning warmed the soul in me.

He said “The cold wind bites the flesh, beneath the sky, so blue-

But I remember bathing outside in such cold . . . it’s true!”

His age and clothing seemed to both defend all that he said,

This fascinating man with the fur hat upon his head.

 

He laughed, “Without a wind the steam would go straight up, you see.

And such a hot bath in the winter!  That’s the best to me!”

 

The package I brought in was then scanned electronically,

Just as he shared his sweet tale of “days-gone-by” with me.

 

Mary scanned the bar code, then she told me to ‘log on’

To check the status of the package after it had gone.

I marveled at the beauty of his story of “those days”

Hot wooden bucket baths in frost . . . right under sun’s bright rays

Just as the other woman talked about her new web page . . .

How wonderful to hear his story from another age.

 

This interesting man’s whiskers, hat and coat confirmed the truth

About the story of the bath that he took in his youth.

 

I hope the flavor of his long life never will be lost.

I remain so grateful that this morning our paths crossed.

 

©2003 by NEC Iankowitz     All Rights Reserved

 

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