The Old Stoker

Copyright © 2000 Walt Zientek

He just didn't have the time, it seemed, to sit down at the campfire

"Sometimes," he thought, "You are so busy livng life, you don't have
time to enjoy it."

Work and other obligations seemed to be piling up and calling for
his attention. He could always hear the Campfire talk in the distance,
always smell the warm, sweet smoke. He just couldn't make the time
to make his way back around that old familiar circle.

Another weekend's set of chores kept him away again.

Then, the Old Campfire Stoker thought he heard his name called as
he smelled the distant burning of cherry, ash and oak. He called the
yellow dogs in close as he made his way toward the fire. He spotted
an old friend sitting on the biggest log amidst a crowd of unknown

"C'mon Caleb, C'mon Gib," he called. "Pull up next to these big guys
over here. I have to stop and rest a while. And say hello to a dear old
pal. That's right. The fellow that made the ring I wear every day. The
one with the Leapin' Lab. Yep, and the tie pin and the money clip and
the... Yep, that's the guy who lit this fire a long time ago."

The man sat down and shook hands with his old friend.

"Hey Bud! Great to see you back again!"

The big dogs and the little Frenchie all settled in for a short spell.
The two Old Stokers talked... and talked. And the Campfire burned
into the night.

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Last modified: 5-29-2001

Page Copyright © 2001 Walt Zientek <>