LET THE LITTLE CHILDREN COME

As a "sicky" I spent many hours on Grandpa's lap in the rocking chair. Frequently an earache would send me there and he would hold me close, smoke his smelly old pipe, and blow wonderfully warm smoke in my ears to ease the pain. Being sickly sometimes messes with your good judgment and on occasion my temper got me in real trouble. Playing in Grandpa's wagon was a favorite pastime where my sisters and I would perfect beautiful "maypop" people, choosing just the right sizes for body parts to be attached with broom straw. Don't mess with my maypops - a flash of anger, a butcher knife thrown, a sister's eye that could have gone out. Such antics earned me the title "Samson" from Grandpa and he would chide "Now, now Samson, put down that jawbone" and administer the appropriate action. A sick old man and a sickly child - Grandpa and I connected.