The Sand Boat

Many years ago when I was a child, life was very difficult. I was beaten nearly every day of my young life, until I left home at the age of fourteen. There was not much reason to have fun in those days. We were pretty much slaves to farm work and spent long days in fields or tending the livestock. It was a really rough time in not only my life but that of my five siblings. We didn't have much time for fun, but I do remember that we got to join 4-H. One of my projects was photography. In those days black and white pictures were the norm. One day my step dad decided to put up a swing set and a sandbox for us. The sandbox was not your traditional one, rather, it was an old row boat. It was on an innocent summer afternoon before the abuser came home from the factory that we would steal away time and play in the sandboat. I remember to this day taking this photograph of my brother, Willie. I miss him so much. Our lives have been lived seperately because I left home so young and because he stayed behind and took the abuse. From what little I know about him, he has grown to become an abuser as well, including physical and substaince. The sins of the father are revisited.....but forever I will remember him in this moment. I will remember his innocence and how sweet he was as a little boy and as my brother. I've tried writing to him, but he never answered. Perhaps too many years have gone by and perhaps he is not the sweet innocent that I remember. May God have mercy on the evil soul that ruined all of us....and I hope to this day that Willie will know somewhere across this expanse of space that seperates us just how much I still love him to this very day.