We were very poor during the depression, I never realized how poor until my fifth birthday.
My father brought home a bunny rabbit for my birthday.
I was elated.
We ate him for supper that night and I fell into a deep sadness.
I decided to look at the bright side of the event… at least the bunny rabbit and I hadn’t developed a close friendship.
From that time on, I only asked for inanimate objects as gifts.
When my mother became pregnant, again the whole family was elated… except me.
They would talk about Mommy bringing home a gift of a baby brother from the hospital for me to play with.
I ignored them when my parents said, “come look at your new baby brother his name is Cecil”.
I refused to come down for dinner that night. I buried my head under my pillow, when I heard the baby cry. I could only imagine what they were doing to him. To my surprise, he was still there the next morning.
They made a big fuss about how much weight he was gaining and I would watch my mother baste him with baby oil. Mother said he weighed 18 pounds… a real little “Butter Ball”.
Early Thanksgiving morning I removed Cecil from his cage, put him in my little red wagon and we left the house. I got half way to the train station before the murderers caught up with us.
They brought us home and continued to fatten him up. Many thanksgivings have passed since that first day they brought Cecil home to me. He has since joined the Marines, and I became a Veterinarian.
Copyright 2017 Summerlin's Writers and Poets Workshop - Las Vegas, NV.
This is our author Mitch Phillips. All of his books are available on Amazon.com
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