Stuff of Earth

I’m traveling to a writers conference today, She Speaks, to meet with publishers and attend sessions. Excited to introduce you to a talented writer friend for today’s guest post. I know you will enjoy his heart. Karen

By Paul Phillips

__________

The stuff of earth competes
For the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver
Of all good things.  *

I have known the little boy’s father since he was the same age his son is today. The boy is not so different from his father.

The lad’s father and grandfather have come to haggle over a guitar. I will ask a price and they will offer much less. Sooner or later, we’ll meet somewhere in the middle. Or not. Most times, we get there.

Dickering takes time, so as we haggle, the lad, perhaps three years old, sits down to play at the little table we keep for just such occasions. He selects a set of toys, a variant of Legos called Duplos, to work with.

The centerpiece is a train track, along with the components for an engine and freight car. Most of the children especially like the little human figure which can fit on top of the engine—looking, to their young eyes, like a real engineer.

With a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his big eyes, the child begins to build his railroading empire.

He is content. At least, that is what I believe.

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