I rose up hard through the ranks,
Shining shineless shoes aglow.
Some just paid me with their thanks,
Some just a penny a toe!
On my long way to the top,
I shined tears from eye to eye.
Because sometimes shoes would stop,
Alas, most shoes just went by!
I sweat, I scrimped, and I slaved,
Put every penny away.
I knew every penny saved,
Would shine gold for me some day!
Had spit-polish dues to meet,
Singing the St. Louis Blues.
Saw more than a million feet,
And more than ten miles of shoes!
But every shoe that would stop,
Just one more penny to peck.
Till packs of pennies would drop,
And put gold around my neck!
All those precious pennies earned,
I fondly think on once more...
The golden rule's what I learned,
Now I own my own shoe store!
I take my hat off for the flag
I stand up straight; let others sag
I get all weepy for Old Glory
thinking of my family's story
They came from Russia with naught but hope
with just their wits to help them cope
No language skills or education either
Money or living quarters, they had neither
But they scraped and scrimped, and just kept going
Gramps peddled junk, grams did the sewing
And with the help of God, it all worked out
Hard work and faith -- their kids did sprout
My father an attorney, my uncle a physician
All due to gram and gramps' prescient intuition
To emigrate alone, part of no community
to an unknown land of opportunity
THE DAY MY LIFE BEGAN
The day my life began, my friends,
Was back in nineteen sixty-two.
It was a romantic story,
That I'll now relate to you
When Mum and Dad first married,
Things were hard for a time.
There wasn’t much money for luxuries;
They had to watch every dime.
They lived with Gran and Granddad,
Though they yearned to be alone.
While they scrimped and saved to raise the cash
To buy a house of their own.
They worked all the hours God gave them,
‘Til they put a deposit down
On a house with two small bedrooms,
On the poorer side of town.
Moving day came round at last
And they hired a van for the day.
They couldn’t afford a removal firm,
So that was the only way.
With the help of friends and family,
They did it all in one load
And soon their goods and chattels
Were stacked in their new abode.
The last box was safely unloaded
And Dad returned the van.
They celebrated later that night …
And that’s when my life began.
4h April 2020
The day my life went Whaco contest
Sponsor - Caren Kritsinger
Much respect to those
Who have entered my life
Scrimped and saved to enter
Into my existence
May they know when
They see my face for real
How I wonder
And these visions fly
“Mama, please make Brenda get off the piano now,”
My twin sister Barbara whined with a scowl.
“I have been waiting forever for my turn to play.”
She was a 10 year old picture of dismay.
Mother did not have to twist our arm to practice.
Weekly music lessons had turned us both into fanatics.
My Mother scrimped and saved for our weekly music lessons.
Then we took up the flute and clarinet for an additional blessing.
The band and piano were our weekly delights.
Thank you Mom, for all you did to brighten up our nights.
Music is a lifelong pleasure,
A gift that we will always treasure.
My Daddy Was a Preacher
My daddy was a preacher
Not the kind now on TV
But a back-woods country preacher
For they’re the best you see
He came through the Great Depression
Where his parents scrimped and saved
To send him off to college
On a path that God had paved
He worked hard while in college
Took odd jobs when he could
He encountered those temptations
But stayed on the side of good
Then one year taking tickets
At a bathhouse at the beach
He started a prayer meeting
He started then to preach
He preached in little rooms, a house
Eventually a church
He preached for over 60 years
For folks who God they searched
He married countless couples
Held hands of those sick in bed
He helped many a man and woman
Who had turned to the bottle instead
He spoke comfort at the funerals
Of soldiers who had died
Wrapped his arms around their loved ones
And stayed close there by their side
But even preachers pass on
As my loving father did
With a legacy of loving
For this grateful preacher’s kid
written for a friend remembering her daddy on what would have been his 100th birthday.
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