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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Many, many years ago, when I was but a child…my friends and I would play the coolest games. Now…when I think back about those sweet and happy times…it always makes me smile to hear their names. Eeney-iney-over…hide an’ seek…and blind man’s bluff. Ring-around-the-rosie…jacks...and tag. But hopscotch was my favorite one…especially on the square…just between the cannon and the flag. Funny thing about it was that…even after rains, we always found the pattern crisp, and bright. Mother used to tell me that the reason was because…leprechauns patrolled the square at night! The truth is…I believed her. This was “Mother,” after all. Then, one day…as I hopped along the walk… A nice old man came strolling up, then stopped and seemed to study the straightness and preciseness of the chalk. With prudent eyes he measured carefully each and every square, making sure each box was even-sized. And as I watched him checking every aspect of the pattern, it wasn’t long before I realized He was making sure the hopscotch pattern looked its best. He scanned it twice…from one end to the next. And when he finally walked away - his face aglow with pride, he left me there…confused, and quite perplexed. Two days later, Dad and I crawled out of bed at dawn to do a little fishing on the lake. But out on Highway 63 the bridge was closed, and so…we had to find some other way to take. The only other way there was meant cutting straight through town, and that, of course, meant driving past the square. As we did, I actually saw the man who’d stopped that day to check the hopscotch pattern standing there. “Who’s that man?” I asked my dad. I figured he would know. (Back then my father ran the General Store.) “That’s old Norman Rockwell, son. He’s putting up the flag. He does that every day…and so much more. “See that cannon…near the flag? See how nice it shines? It’s Norman, son, who keeps it clean and bright. He mows the grass and tends the flowers. Picks up all the trash. He keeps the square just perfect, day and night. “Norman comes in all the time…for tubes of paint, and canvas…and every now and then, a box of chalk. Also, every couple weeks, he’ll buy a can of polish. He sometimes stays for coffee...and we’ll talk. “They say he’s quite the artist…works for magazines an’ such. I asked him once if what I’d heard was true. He just grinned and said, ‘Why, yes. In fact, except for hop-scotch…there’s nothing in the world I’d rather do.’ “That explained the art supplies. The polish…that was easy; he keeps that cannon shiny…breech to bore. But I have never figured out…and never actually asked him…just exactly what the chalk is for.” Well…even as a six-year old, I figured that one out. At last I understood why… every day… All the squares were perfect. Why they always looked like new…and why we never found them washed away. (1992) PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs - @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied poems), listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or by simply contacting me - should those of you who enjoy listening to, as well as reading poems, and particularly those who travel care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark
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