Willie was a junkman in my neighborhood.

When his truck drove by, my friends and I would always wave to him. I never quite understood that people had to call him to come and pick up their junk; I thought he just showed up when he was needed. One summer day when I was about ten years old, Willie showed up and I ran outside and began helping him carry some stuff from my backyard. I felt mighty proud that he was letting me help and talking to me. I found out that he, a junkman, could speak several languages and play a variety of musical instruments. After we were through loading the stuff on his truck, he stood talking with me in front of my house. I still remember what he told me, though I paraphrase: "Education is a major factor in your life. It is learning , then forgetting, then being able to remember what you learned when you need it" and "True knowledge isn't knowing everything. It's knowing where to find it."  When he was done talking, he told me to wait, and he climbed into his truck. He rummaged about a bit, then through the door window, reached down to hand me a wrist-rocket slingshot. I couldn't believe it! He said he found it in the trash and was giving it to me for helping him. I could have burst, I was so excited! And what was better, my parents let me keep it! I had that slingshot for years, until finally the rubber forearm protector kind of fell apart and the plastic handhold cracked. So, I may not have done the actual finding, but I treasured that piece of trash almost as much as the memory of a junkman who once made some time for me.

Tags: writer's block