A Buckeye In a Nutshell
By Andy Oldham
The best friend I could have in this old life has always been close, even though we live 11 hours apart. We share many good memories. Most of them bring a vertical smile when our mouths spill out the laughter. On the long drive home, after a visit years ago, I thought of one memory that I just had to write and remind him of. This is that letter. These are the kinds of stories our grandchildren love to hear. Ones once told will be handed down for generations. I hope you enjoy it.
__________
March 17, 2014
Hey my friend!
I am sorry I have tarried in sending you this story Mo, please forgive? It’s a short story; nonetheless it is one of those we have forgotten until something in the present triggers our old fossil brains into action. Let me see if I can jar your memory a little.
I had returned from the Air Force and you invited me, and someone else (I don’t remember who), to go hunting on some farmers land that you knew there around Anderson. We trucked through the woods and really enjoyed seeing ABSOLUTELY nothing to hunt, except maybe a few black birds, or sparrows. Of course we never hunted those. It was the being together and the sharing that was our enjoyment. I do remember we found a playground of sort’s, way back in the woods. Someone had built it for kids and teenagers to play on. That was pretty cool too.
We continued to walk through the woods when we came upon a tree with the most intersting nuts growing on it. They were all over the
tree, and the ground. Displaced from our Southern heritage, none of us had ever seen a nut like this, so we began to pick them up, look them over and even toss a few into the trees. Then, you decided that because they were most alluring, it had to be edible. First you tried to break them open by crushing two nuts against each other. That didn’t work so you put one in your mouth and began trying to crack it open with your teeth.
About the same time we triumphantly heard a muffled crack, the good Lord sent you, and the rest of us, an angel of protection from our own ignorant stupidity.
“What are you boys doing on my land?” A gruff farmer asked.
“Hunting,” I said.
“Who gave you permission to hunt on my land?
Then, rolling the nut to one side of your mouth, you gave a reply explaining that you received permission from your farmer friend.
The farmer assured us that we had crossed on to his land because the fence was down and asked us politely to leave.
Before we left, and with a mouth full of nut fragments, you blathered, “What kind of nuts are these?
I will never forget the look on your face when he said, “That’s a Buckeye, and it’s poisonous enough to kill a bull.”
With a look of terror you began to spit Buckeye splinters all over us, the ground, and anything else that got in the way of you ejecting it from your mouth!
We all laughed our heads off! Even the old farmer let out a chuckle.
It is a fond memory and one I was reminded of at Dick’s (my little brother) house when I saw a buckeye tree with pretty little nuts on it, and laying all over the ground!
You can preach this Mo! The moral is simple. We must be careful to take care of our bodies, by knowing that what we put in our mouth is not poisonous. Too, we must be careful what we place in our hearts and minds and see with our eyes. We may be ingesting that which causes a painful spirtual death that keeps us from an eternity with Jesus.
Love ya Bro, Thanks for a great day of eating and memorable fellowship with you and Nancy. I hope we don’t wait another 34 years before we meet again. If we do, be sure to bring your hearing aids, coke-bottle glasses, and jet propelled wheel chair — we’ll race through those woods of yours, creating anther memory that only we will share!
I thank God for our friendship!
Andy
__________
Andy Oldham is the founder and co-creator of Christian Grandfather Magazine. He received his B.A. in religious studies and education from Anderson University. He has served as pastor to senior adults, and fills pulpits when needed. Andy taught memoir classes at the local library and after writing his personal memoirs wrote Everlasting Cronies. His column in the Northside Sun Newspaper was well received by his community. Andy’s poem, Winters Grace has been honored in “First Place” compitation by the Mississippi Poetry Society. He and his wife, Barbara, have six grandchildren and enjoy retirement in Madison, Mississippi.
0 Comments