There are so many things I remember,
from the times when I was small.
Just little snatches of memories,
this history I recall.
Yet these moments made an impact,
for in my head they still remain.
Isn't it amazing what the human mind retains?
I remember my Flexible Flyer,
it was silver, brown and red.
The greatest winter I ever had,
was spent soaring on that sled.
It was a present from my father,
bought at the second-hand store.
Painstakingly repaired and repainted,
when he brought it through the door,
as a girl of only six years old
I couldn't ask for more.
My father took me out to the country,
to a farm owned by a friend.
So different from the city,
with a sky that had no end.
In the cold night air
he showed me the stars,
I remember the awe I felt,
seeing the Big and Little Dipper,
the stars on Orion's Belt.
A small hill in the distance,
sparsely covered in fir trees,
became the destination
for my father, my sled and me.
Speeding down the hill together,
through that farmer's spacious field,
my father up front and me in back,
he acted like my shield.
He kept me safe from wind and snow,
I held on to him tight,
the farmer's house, bare lilac bushes,
silhouetted in the night.
Up and down we went a hundred times,
or so it seemed to me,
I never felt so close to my father,
so happy and so free.
The thing that I remember best,
of all those memories,
is how safe my father made me feel,
and how much he cared for me.