Читать книгу Rover - Barry Blackstone - Страница 13

I remember my boyhood for its independence of movement. I was allowed to roam freely throughout the farm with Rover at my side. I rarely remember being asked by my parents, “Where are you going?” Or, “Who will you be playing with today?” When you live on a back road farm in northern Maine, there were few options, so my parents were relaxed disciplinarians who gave me much latitude. With money always scares, there were few toys, but Rover and I had great imaginations!

Around chores, we had plenty of time for fun. We played basketball in the cow barn, on our own court; Rover loved any ball, especially a moving ball. We played baseball against the front of the huge barn that sat beside our old farm house. We went swimming in the frog pond in the cow pasture. We went fishing in the stream that ran long the backside of the homestead’s northern boundary. There were wars to be fought in the woods against an invading German force, and Indian uprising to be put down in the forts of the haymow. Needless to say, I had a very active boyhood with few physical shortcomings to interrupt my almost daily adventures. The only exceptions I can remember was a rare case of Ring Worm I contracted from my Grandfather Blackstone and a trip to the hospital to get my tonsils out. Other than those setbacks, my boyhood wealth was in my boyhood health and the companionship of a great dog named Rover!

As the years passed, I grew steadily. I was always proud I was the tallest, if not the biggest of my Blackstone cousins. The McDougal’s, our only real neighbors, had plenty of boys, but once again they were small in stature. I was athletic and skillful in all Perham sports. I was a Perham Pirate, the local Little League Team, and played a lot, even when I was nine. We had a great coach in Woody Doody, the meat cutter at Holt’s General Store, and at eleven, we won the district championship over the bigger towns of Washburn, Wade, Woodland, and Crouseville. In the school yard games, I excelled, whether in snow football, or tag. I was tall and lanky, and competitive. I still feel the joy of running through a sea of classmates for a touchdown, or going six for six against our rivals at the Woodland Elementary School in our annual baseball game. Before I reached high school, I had grown to 5’ 10”, and was a freshman starter on the Washburn varsity baseball team. (I reached my teenage years, but Rover never did!)

Rover and I loved the four seasons, for with each came something different to do. We got bored easily, so with the variety of work on the farm, and the variety of activities at school, there was always a change in the routine. We loved spring for dam making and tossing a baseball. We loved summer for haying and our annual trip to Dinsmore’s Camp on Madawaska Lake for horseshoes. I loved fall for throwing the grapples during potato harvest and for hunting partridge. I loved winter for its snow storms and playing basketball. As I look back, I realize that I was one of those fortunate lads who had a great boyhood with a dog! I don’t know if Jesus had a dog, but I have been teaching young people for years that one of the reasons we can believe in Jesus Christ is the fact He knew about being a kid. Whichever age you are at, He knows about being five and twelve and seventeen. Luke tells us this about the boyhood of Jesus: “And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom: and the grace of God was upon him . . . And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man.” (Luke 2:40, 52) Over the years I have been able to relate to Jesus because His boyhood in Nazareth was much like my boyhood in Perham with the exception of Rover, or was it?