My dad repeatedly said, “Youth is a luxury, don’t waste it!”
Boy does that resound nowadays.
I strolled into a supermarket bustling with pushy shoppers
A waist high boy scrawny as a cornstalk
stood at the entrance raising money for his Little League.
The boy, soaked in sweat, stood outside the store.
A tomato-faced man stopped abruptly and shouted,
“You kids should not be here!”
Raising his blinking eyes the boy said,
“Sorry sir,” he then added “God bless.”
The man stomped into the store.
I glared at the man, and he turned his head away from me.
I looked at the boy and whispered, “God bless, really?”
The boy added, “Maybe he had a rough day?”
I gave the boy a Lincoln five-dollar bill.
He handed me four singles back.
I returned them in a split second.
I said,” Son, we share a special history.
When I was a boy I raised Little League money too.
Been there, and done that.
Little League promotes integrity.
Know what that means?” “Yes sir,” he answered.
“It promotes physical talents and builds character.” I added.
Strolling away, I noticed the boy’s face flooded,
and he was rubbing his eyes dry.
Through cupped hands and celebrating youth he shouted,
“Sir, thanks and God bless.”
THE POETRY OF THE GAME