The Green caldron - University Library

December, 1957
EVERY
The Old Man and the Canes
Sally Langhaar
Rhetoric 101, Theme 12
AFTERNOON HE SAT ON THE PARK BENCH, HOLD-
ing in his aged hands at least four wooden canes. These canes were
not for sale; they were not for rent; yet, he never held less than four.
Every afternoon Fd walk past this old man. We never spoke; instead, we
just gazed a little bewilderedly at each other. I might say that I thought he
was a little peculiar ; but perhaps he thought the same about me. After all,
I was like a new bud on a plant and he had begun to wither.
His face was creased by wrinkles. There were worry wrinkles between
his wiry black eyebrows, and there were frown wrinkles across his forehead.
There were smile wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and at the corners
of his meditating eyes. The depth of these smile wrinkles told me that
during his lifetime he had laughed and loved more often than he had frowned
or worried. But why didn't he laugh any more? And why -did he always
have so many canes?
I was walking through the park one afternoon, when he got up from his
bench and began to walk towards me. He walked slowly and deliberately,
using only one cane to steady him. The other three he carried, as usual,
under his left arm. As he approached me, gradually a smile came over his
face, and his eyes began to beam,
"T see you every day," he began, "and I wondered if you wouldn't accept
one of my canes as a gift? You see, I make them myself. It's my hobby."
I looked at the canes, and they were the most beautiful canes Fd ever
seen ! Small, intricate and detailed patterns of animals, people, and land-
scapes were carved into the wood. Why, these canes would require hours
of what most people would consider tedious work ! And this man didn't even
know me. Why, he didn't even know my name
He must have noticed my hesitancy, for he persisted, "Please, Fd like
you to have one."
"Well, thank you so very much!" I exclaimed. "They're beautiful!"
Then, he proceeded to hand me the most beautiful by far of the four canes.
As I took the cane I noticed his long, slender fingers and bulging veins.
Those hands had been very busy for many years. Maybe he had once been
a pianist or a sculptor. Such thoughts faded ; and I excused myself, thanked
the kind old man, told him Fd see him the next day, and hurried on to work.
I didn't know what Fd do with the cane, but a few of my questions
had been answered. This man was lonely. He probably lived by himself,
and these canes were all he had. They meant everything to him ; if he could
!
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