Ballet Shoes

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The old ballerina sat back in her arm chair and daydreamed. She remembered the places she’d danced in; Moscow, London, Paris, New York, Toronto, Vancouver. “Ah, such wonderful days." Glitter. Cheers. Flowers. Friends. Conductors.”

She picked up her two pairs of ballet shoes. “Ah, my friends” she said, “When I was quite young I wore you.” She looked at the smaller pair of ballet shoes.

“Then when I grew older and started on my career, I spent all the money I had saved and bought a professional pair of ballet shoes,” she then picked up a well work pair of silver coloured ballet shoes. “If only I could wear you again! Maybe you’re lonely too for the stage, the ballet….Swan Lake.”

Just about this time, a little girl was speaking to her own ballet teacher. “Joan, you’re doing so well. You have promise. You have a great love of the art. What you need now is a better pair of ballet shoes.”

“Madam Romanov, we’re so poor. It’s just Mum and me and Mum’s lost her job!” Joan said, with a tear trickling down her eye.

“Give me a day or two and I’ll see what I can do,” said Madam Romanov.

After Joan left, Madam Romanov picked up the phone and spoke to the old ballerina. She told her Joan’s problem and also told her that Joan had great skills, even at her young age.

“Send her to me. I must meet her. Maybe I can solve her problem,” smiled the old ballerina.

Joan met with the old ballerina and they talked on and on for hours about the joyful and demanding life of a professional ballet dancer.

“Joan, I need your help. I have two friends who are longing to dance again. Will you help them dance?” asked the old ballerina.

“Yes, Madam, I’m happy to help your two friends.”

“Here they are,” said the old ballerina and she pout the two smaller ballet shoes in Joan’s hands, and smiled and smiled.

“Oh Madam, you’re so kind!” Joan smiled.

“Come and see me often and bring my two old friends to visit,” said the old ballerina happily.
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Wake up Grandpa!!

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Wake up, Grandpa!

Many years ago, our three granddaughters visited us for the afternoon. Grandma and I always enjoyed their company. Their names are Hannah, Robin and Madeline.

One visit they said, “Grandpa, let’s do some magic tricks.,”

“OK. Let’s get out some rope. Cut it in pieces. Then put it together again.”

It was a great trick and we all practiced it.

“Grandma, Grandpa, I know how to make a coin bounce off the walls and end up under my foot,” said one of our granddaughters.

“Really!” we said!

“Yes. Here it is in my left hand. Now I’ll slip it into my right hand. Now I’ll throw it around the room…….Now, I’ll lift up my foot and what do you see there?”

“The coin!! How did you do that?” Grandma and I were amazed.

“That’s my secret!” she laughed.

Grandma said, “Now it’s time for some special cookies I’ve just baked,”

The girls all chatted away. My eyelids felt heavier and heavier. Finally, I fell asleep!

After a while, I heard three voices calling out, “Wake up, Grandpa! Wake up Grandpa! Wake up, Grandpa!”

“What’s that, what’s that?” I said, opening my eyes and pretending to be very surprised.

Hannah, Robin and Madeline all laughed.

So from then on, whenever they came by, I made sure I’d pretend to fall asleep. And they’d all call out, “Wake up, Grandpa! Wake up Grandpa! Wake up, Grandpa!”

I’d pretend to wake up …surprised…and say: “What’s that? What’s that? What’s that?”.

Maybe you’d like to play the “Wake up, Grandpa!” game…. Or call it the “Wake up, Grandma!” game. Pretend to be Grandpa or Grandma and wake up with a pretend surprise.
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Grandchildren are like gold, aren’t they!
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Peas and Qs

“Let’s turn TV off and sit around the fire,” I said to our grandchildren.

Gerlinde, their Grandma, said, “That’s a great idea. I’ve made some hot chocolate and we can turn the lights off and enjoy the warm glow of the burning logs.”

“Yes, let’s do that,” our Grandchildren called out.

“I’ve got a puzzle for you to solve,” I said. “When I was a little boy, my mother would say to me: ‘Neil, watch your peas and Qs’. What do you think she meant?”

One of our grandchildren said, “Well, Grandpa, I know what peas are. We boil them up and eat them. So she meant you must make sure the peas don’t boil dry and spoil.”

“That’s a great answer…but…I’m afraid it’s not right! But it’s a good answer and has a lot of truth in it,” I smiled.

“I know the answer, Grandpa,” said another grandchild. “I think ‘Watch your peas’ means ‘watch them grow and feed them with water’”.

“That’s also a good answer with some good truth in it,” I said. “But it’s not the right answer. Please all keep trying.”

Gerlinde, their Grandma, went to the kitchen and got some peanut butter cookies and we all munched on them while we looked at the logs burning.

“Well, I’ll have a go at ‘Watch your Qs,” said another grandchild. “I think it means you must’nt push other people away, you should queue up politely and wait your turn.”

“That’s another great answer. You’ve all given me some very good answers, I’m very proud of you,” I said.

“So am I,” smiled Grandma.

“Grandpa, you’ve got to tell us the answer now,” they all shouted.

So I smiled and said,“ You see, ‘Watch your peas’ should be pronounced ‘Watch your please’. And ‘Q’s’ means ‘Thank You”. Thank you sounds like ‘Q’ “

“So my mother was saying to me, ‘Neil always say ‘please and thank you,’” I said.

Everyone laughed!

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How very important it is to say “please” and “thank you”.

Fish and Chips

“It’s so cold! I’ll hide in this shop doorway.” The old man’s torn raincoat slapped back and fore in the cruel wind. He pulled his scarf over his battered hat, and tied it under his chin.

“Ah, that’s better. But what’ll I eat tonight?” He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out all the money he had. “Just a few coins. Oh No! Just a few coins. All I can buy is some chips – and not many at that.”

After he’d huddled in the doorway for a bit, he felt a little warmer. “OK. Now it’s for the Fish and Chip Shop.” He limped out of the doorway, Along Wellfield Rd to the Fish and Chip Shop.

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Just about that time, Mam and Dad and I had gone into the same Fish and Chip shop for a special treat for me. I watched the man behind the counter dip fish into the thick batter, then into the bubbling pan for cooking. Chips: rich, brown, tasty. Sprinkled with vinegar and salt.

Oh, how my mouth watered with the thought of it. “Dad, when I grow up I want to work in a Fish and Chip shop and eat and eat all day!” Mam and Dad smiled at each other and at me.

“You’ll never starve, Neil!” Dad said.

Finally, the next fish and chips were ready and the queue of hungry boys and girls and their parents, cheered!!

I heard the bell ring as the Fish and Chip shop door opened. An old ragged man stumbled in. His scarf pulled his battered hat down onto his ears. He was so ragged, old, and unhappy - I felt sorry for him.

Dad paid for our fish and chips and the man behind the counter wrapped them up in yesterday’s newspaper. Then Dad looked at Mam and she nodded. They didn’t always need to speak; often a glance was enough for them to know what to do.

Very quietly, Dad spoke to the man behind the counter, “A good feast of fish and chips, please, for him. But don’t say who paid for it. I was hungry in the war and someone fed me his last piece of bread,” Dad said.

The man behind the counter said, “Good on you, Sir, good on you.”

Mam, Dad and I walked out of the shop. Outside, I looked through the window.
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The ragged old man said, “ A few chips, please, all I’ve got are these pennies, so I don’t mind some of your burnt ones, you know the ones you throw away.”

“Very good Sir.”

The man behind the counter got out a huge piece of fish, all covered with lovely brown crispy batter. He ladled chips upon chips into a bag.

“But I can’t pay for all that,” said the old ragged man.

“It’s paid for, Sir.

“Who paid for it?”

“A friend who’s also been hungry.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone.”

“Please tell him, thank you. And tell him I’m sharing it with some of my buddies.”
The old ragged man felt like a new man. Someone cared for him!

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I walked home with Mam and Dad. We warmed up the fish and chips again in the stove; poured them onto our plates and poured on HP sauce. What a feast!

Far off, three ragged friends also feasted, huddled in a shop doorway.

Now, many, many years later I remember Wellfield Rd; Cardiff; my kind parents; and the old ragged man.
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The Old Lamplighter

“It’s so dark, I’m afraid,” said little Joannie.

“Don’t be so scared,” Billy laughed. The other children kept quiet, but they also didn’t like the cold dark streets when the golden rays of the sun had disappeared.

In those far off days in my home town of Cardiff, for years and years, there were no lamp posts to ease the way for boys and girls who played out in the dark as long as they could. But then came ….gas lighting. Lamp posts would be lit every night and glow out their warmth and friendship, chasing away the cold shadows.

“Here comes the lamp lighter,” yelled Tom. “Look there’s his lantern swinging in the dark.”

“I want to carry it for him,” smiled little Joannie.

“No, I’ll carry it,” said Tom.

“No you won’t,” said Will, giving Tom a push.

Billy yelled, “I’m the biggest. I’m the leader. I’m the boss. I’ll carry his lamp.” The rest of the children kept very quiet. They were a bit scared of Billy. He was taller and he was their leader.

The Old Lamp Lighter came up to the children who were gathered by the dark and lifeless lamppost.

“Hello children. How nice to see you. I need someone to hold my lantern safely while I light the lamp.”

“I’ll hold it,” demanded Billy.

“Thank you Billy, but I want Joannie to hold it. But I’ve a very special job for you, Billy,” said the old lamplighter.” Billy looked very happy indeed to get a special job to do. Joannie was so happy, too.

The Old Lamplighter gave the glowing lantern to Joannie and said, “Billy, I want you to stand by Joannie and look after her. In fact, because you’re the biggest and the leader, I want you to always help the other children and encourage them every day. It’s an important job. Do you think you can do that? I believe you can.”

“Yes Sir!” said Billy proudly.

Then the Old Lamplighter lit the lamp and the lamppost glowed out warmth and friendship.

As he walked away, the children heard him say, “The first shall be last, yes, the first shall be last…Feed my sheep, care for my lambs,” and they guessed what he meant.
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Climbing out.

The little cat walked along the narrow path throught the forest. Then she saw a long wide hole in her way. She crept slowly to the edge of the hole and looked in. It was so deep and dangerous!

The little cat said, “It’s such a deep hole, but there’s no way round it!” So she stepped carefully onto a long pole that stretched from her side of the deep hole, to the other side.

Very slowly and carefully, the little cat crept along the pole.

Suddenly, the pole twisted and she clung on to it with her front paws, with her legs dangling there in space!

“Oh no! Oh no! I’m going to fall, I’m going to fall,” she cried. Then her front paws slipped on the wet pole and she tumbled into the deep hole, sliding down it's muddy side.

Dazed and bruised, she stood up and tried to jump out of the hole. The top of the hole was too high; the sides of the hole were too slippery; and she finally lay panting, tired out at the bottom of the hole.

A little while later, another little cat walked along the same path up to the same deep hole. She also tried to walk across on the slippery pole. She also fell in!

“Are you OK?” asked the first cat.

“I think so,” said the second cat. “I’ll walk around a bit and see how I feel.”

She walked around in the mud of the deep hole and said, “I’m a bit bruised, but I’m OK, thanks.”

“I’ve tried and tried to jump out. I’ve tried and tried to climb up the sides; but I just can’t do it!” said the first little cat.

They both lay there in the cold mud and felt so very sorry for themselves.

The first cat had a great idea! “If I jump up to that root that’s growing out of the side…and you jump onto my back…then you can jump out of the hole!”

“That’s a great idea,” said the second cat.

They tried it out and it worked! The second cat jumped out of the hole then lay down and reached her paw down. The first cat jumped up, grabbed hold of the paw and pulled herself out of the deep dark hole.

Bruised and sore, they walked together down the path.

“When we helped each other, we found a way out,” they said and felt much happier.