Oh, how I recall the days I sat at Grandpa's knee, watching
As he whittled, while the shavings fell on me.
His gnarled hands moved gently, swiftly, full of ageless
Skill; with a sense of deftness that I know mine never will.
As he worked his magic for my childish eyes to view, he'd
Begin to tell again things I already knew.
But I relished every tale Grandpa told of life with his
Cherished, weathered tool, his trusty pocketknife.
It was passed to him one day when he was just a boy;
By his daddy , with the warning it was not a toy.
Filled with pride the youngster tucked his treasured gift away
Safely in his overalls, where it would always stay.
What adventures these two shared, my Grandpa and his knife,
Just like true companions are joined by a special life.
These pals solved the problems they encountered day by day,
Whether it be in their work or in pure childish play.
Peeling apples, digging worms or cutting canes to fish, these
Great partners seemed able to solve their every wish.
As a teen they carved two hearts upon an old oak tree;
Skinned a rabbit, trimmed horse hoofs, cut sassafras for tea.
Fashioned a crude bow and arrow to pursue a prey, built a
Kite, carved stocks for slings, slashed baling twine from hay.
Day soon came when manhood changed the pace of Grandpa's
Life; for he fell in love and wanted Grandma for his wife.
Now the skill of years gone by were truly put to test,
For of all these two had done, this must be very best !
Full of gentleness and love the strong, young hands began,
With a steady rhythm so well shared by knife and man.
Days turned into weeks, a common goal was brought to life;
As they worked in unison, my Grandpa and his knife.
Once again the trusty friend was safely tucked away.
It had met the task at hand, as in each passing day.
Standing before the young woman chosen as his bride,
Grandpa's heart was overflowing with both love and pride.
Grandma's clear eyes brimmed with tears, she knew he'd
Done his best.
Thrusting forth her loving arms she grasped her new hope chest.
Grandpa's Pocketknife, written by Jane-Ann Heitmueller.