Just Us Two

I was fortunate to be born to a middle class family that loved one another—an intact family with a father that was hard working; making a modest living.  He worked many hours to support his family and provide the necessities of life.  There was money to pay bills, buy food and clothing, but little left to spend on, in the words of a child, “The finer things in life”—store bought toys. 

Most of my toys were handmade or hand-me-downs, in that I was the last of four children.  My gun was the index and middle finger extended for those fun times when I played cowboys and Indians, or cops and robbers.  I was the one on the block that always borrowed the other kid’s toys.  I’m not complaining, because Dad did the best he could for us.

There were two boys and two girls in our family.  Our brother was the oldest—thirteen years my senior.  He married at a young age of eighteen and moved out to set up house keeping with his new wife that was fifteen-and-a-half years old.  They lived in a small cottage by the railroad tracks in Martinez, California.

I remember going with my parents to visit them on occasion.  I stood on the porch and listened to the sounds of spinning wheels of a locomotive losing traction as it began to pull its heavy load of train cars, while blowing the warning whistle that echoed off the hills in the distance.  I wondered how my brother could sleep with all the commotion and noise going on all night. 

One day when we were there, my brother took me by the hand and led me outside.  The sun was just setting and a cold breeze was blowing in from the bay.  I’m surprised that Mom and Dad allowed him to take me out-of-doors, because they always kept me inside, out of the night air.  I had allergies and an asthmatic condition.  To this day I believe that my brother snuck me out without them knowing. 

He told me that he wanted to make something that every boy should have.  I was excited!  I didn’t know what it could be, but my big brother was taking time with me, and I loved it.  He said it was for shooting big game like:  bear-cans and deer-bottles.  What could it be?  The suspense was killing me. 

He pointed to the tree in his back yard that had lost its leaves.  “What’s so great about that?” I thought to myself.  “What does it have to do with anything?  Were we going to climb it?”  I pondered.  No, but my brother did; taking with him a handsaw as he shinnied up the trunk. 

I watched intently as he looked at one branch and then another.  I heard him say, “This one will do.”  He cut through it very quickly and let it fall to the ground.  He followed, picked it up, and cut it into the form of a “Y”.  “What are you making?” I asked.  “Just watch.” he said, as he stripped off the bark.  He then took out his pocketknife and cut little notches around the full perimeter of the two upper portions, about one half-inch wide.

He put his hand on my shoulder and took me back inside.  We went into his bedroom and found an old, leather shoe that he didn’t wear anymore.  I stared in wonder as he cut the tongue out of it.  He shaped the tongue just right and then put a hole at opposing ends. 

I followed him into the garage where he removed the inner tube from a bicycle tire that was lying over in the corner.  He cut two; twelve-inch strips from it; one half-inch wide, and picked up a roll of string from a shelf.

He proceeded to tie the ends of the rubber strips around the upper portions of the branch and pulled the other two ends through the holes that he had made in the shoe tongue.  He tied off all the ends very carefully with the string. 

It wasn’t until he picked up a smooth, round stone off the ground, placed it in the leather tongue, pulled it back towards his face and then let go, that I learned what a wonderful contraption that he had made for me.  I would give anything to have that slingshot today.  Thanks big brother; I’ll never forget that night.

He recently went on to his reward in heaven after a battle with cancer.  I shared my writings with him when he was living, via e-mails; the above was one of those writings.  I’m glad that I wrote and sent it his way before he passed; just to say thanks for being my brother.

I believe with all of my heart that my writings had a positive influence on his life.  Toward the end of his days he talked about Jesus and the things of God more than ever before.  His attitude toward God had softened, whereas, before his heart was hard like stone. 

Rather than being hardened toward God as he had been for many years, his attitude and outlook on life changed.  He listened as I shared about the goodness of God and the love that He had for him.  I believe the Bible scriptures that I incorporated in my writings softened him, as they found lodging in his heart as he read each one.

(Isaiah 55:11), “So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.”

I saw wonderful changes in the last few months that he lived—kindness, love, and calmness of spirit.  We became quite close.  When we got together it was just us two and the Lord.  I believe that the common bound between us was not blood alone; it was Jesus.  I could talk about the Lord without him taking offense, or becoming defensive. 

(Ezekiel 36:26-27) “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”  vs.27 “I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes, and you will keep My judgments and do them.”

He loved God at the end and is with Him in heaven.  I miss you big brother!

In that God is speaking to your heart now that you have read these few words; go beyond what you think is reasonable and right when dealing with someone that is away from the Lord.  You may be the only voice that they hear and listen to. 

Go the extra mile in love, while there is yet time.  You have the Words of Life within you—share them.  To be instrumental in a soul coming to Jesus makes His dying for them not in vain.  People need to hear the Good News that Jesus Christ loves them and gave His life on a cross for the remission of sin.  Take someone with you to heaven.

Written by,

Papa Boyd