Grandpa was a poor man,
living in the sticks of KY,
with rat holes in the walls,
coal for heat, a
kerosene lamp for light ...
and food out doors ~
that you had to pick,
dig, or kill for; provided
you wanted to eat.
But, as oft as he knew
we were coming, he would
make the long trip into town
and buy a box of old fashioned
pepper mint sticks ~ for us girls to eat.
After he was gone,
uncles carried on the tradition.
Yet, an old fashioned peppermint stick
reminds me of my grandfather,
still, today.
His gesture of kindness
is all that I remember.
But, my heart somehow knows
that a peppermint stick
represents love. |
