Ol’ PARD’s
Howdy Folks, get down an’ come on out back. Coffee’s hot an’ we’ll just sit an’ have a cup while we enjoy what the Good Lord has seen fit to provide. And at my weight an’ age, I have received many of the Good Lord’s blessings! Along the way, those blessings have become treasured memories. Just this morning, as I sat reflecting on days gone by, my thoughts jumped hither an’ yon and somehow settled on yesteryear! Back to a time that I got to spend some time under the stars with some old compadres. We got our camp set up even though it was mighty breezy. We had planned to fish, and we did, but that dang wind would pert near blow your hat off! Made it tough to stay where the fishing would be best, but you know how fishermen are, we hung in there an’ caught a few fish, enough for supper anyhow. So, with grub caught and cooked and eat, we gathered around the campfire to jaw a bit and I got to thinking about how long we had been friends. With all the tales that had been told, and how it seemed like the first liar never stood a chance. In fact, it appears that the more mature we get, those tales not only get better, but sometimes we start to believe our own tales are true! Now, most of mine are true, or at least based on a few true facts, but them other ol’ boys sure get a little bit windy, and their facts get pert near hazy, almost to the point that I’m a little suspicious that there is even a shred of truth to it! You see, they never let the truth stand in the way of a good story! This seems to be especially true when they are recollecting some events that always puts them up on a pedestal while others of us seem to be caught playing with the dogs. Now, I expect most of you folks know that the quickest way to get fleas is to be associating with the carriers of said fleas...but that’s another story! Like I said earlier, it sure was a good trip and was made even better by the good company and the good natured hurrahing that we are so good at. An ol’ boy named Frank Sherman said this back in the early 1900s, “It is my joy in life to find, at every turning of the road, the strong arm of a comrade kind, to help me onward with my load.
And since I have no gold to give, and love alone must make amends, my only prayer is while I live,—God make me worthy of my friends!”
As the campfire burns down an’ that ol’ bedroll starts looking purty good, the stories slow down and we seem to reflect on how the Good Lord has allowed us to hang around and enjoy our friendships and give us the opportunity to teach our young’uns some of the finer things of life. An’ that unrelenting wind… it kept the temperature comfortable and them pesky mosquitoes blowed away! This is a poem that I wrote about some ol’ Pards I know and I think it fits right here.
Ol’ PARD’S Them boys became pards a long time ago,
afore Methuselah ever was a pup.
They’d done lotsa things together, you know, shore ‘nuff been down more times than they’d been up.
Fate had thowed ‘em together back then, when the Checkerboard spread had hired them boys. Pert near seen it all, some thick an’ some thin, ups an’ downs, lotsa sorrows an’ some joys. They kept a good eye on each other’s backs for you never knowed what might be out there. You was a mite careful where you laid your tracks, Makin’ sure everyone got treated square. Wives an’ children an’ new jobs came their way. Fate has its own way to alter the course, so, life dealt each of them a hand to play. They seized their chance an’ used every resource. The Good Lord’s blessin’ carried them through. They prospered an’ their families grew strong, tho sometimes the road quit an’ the wind blew, their faith an’ grit carried them right along. An’ as luck would have it, the years passed by ‘til them ol’ boys started to show some age. They slowed down a mite, but still gave the try, tho their efforts are at another stage! They’d tell them sprouts just how things used to be. How the hosses were bigger an’ faster, an’ them ol’ steers was meaner, don’t you see? But them critters knew who was master! They could ride harder an’ cover more range than a dozen or so of them young scamps. They allowed as how it would never change, ‘til the Good Lord took ‘em to Heaven’s camps! Wal’ that’s how they told it by the ol’ camp stove, an’ they shore don’t plan to change it none. So mark it down, because the tale has been wove. An’ those ol’ pards know that they’ve shore ‘nuff won!
© Ol’ Jim Cathey Help us continue our story by joining us at First Baptist Church here in Marlin.
God bless each of you and God Bless America! m