It was a
windy afternoon and following Sunday lunch when all was put away, my Mother and
Father would take an afternoon nap. I went upstairs to find a comic but that
was not what I was looking for. From the top landing there are
four doors, well actually there are five, the fifth, taking you up the back
stairs to the attic rooms. All houses have an attic of sorts, a place to store
the stuff you don’t use but don’t want to throw away; and that was where I
found myself, that windy afternoon.
Grandfather’s
wooden chest (that’s my great grandfather) was standing under the skylight.
Grandfather had made it himself, an intricate piece of furniture with many
drawers and compartments; this would have travelled with grandfather through
Europe and across to Asia; father had told me many stories about grandfather’s
expeditions.
The locks
were strong but soon the great lid was lifted; I loved to poke around in the
chest to see what I could find. Some old medals, a compass, a pocket knife, spare
buttons and a dice. I played Kim’s game, closing the lid and trying to remember
all I had just seen. Opening the drawers and lifting out each separate tray, a
set of drawing pencils and an old notebook. I sat back with the notebook and
read how grandfather had planned his expeditions down to the finest detail (there
were no mobile phones in those days).
An old
envelope had been caught between two drawers, upon which had been written a
simple message – Tom, write on this paper your hopes and dreams; illustrate
your imaginings. Tom would be grandfather’s son (my grandpa). I opened the
envelope and took out a small piece of paper, still blank, not a mark on it;
perhaps it had always been lost?
I took
the paper and one of the pencils and began to write and draw. It was not long
before I had filled the page and it was then that I noticed, the paper was
unfolding; twice, as it became four times it’s original size and now the
creases had vanished, I continued to write and draw.
After a
number of days and more writing, again the page was full, and again it unfolded
twice (without creases) to become sixteen times it’s original size; now this
gave me something I could really explore on. I kept this to myself as no-one
would believe me, I had no evidence and I could not reproduce this phenomena.
A weekend
away at grandpa Tom’s house and we were busy with a jigsaw, just the two of us.
I asked him if he remembered an envelope from his father, which referred to hopes,
dreams and imaginings; he said he couldn't remember but grandfather had brought
many things back from his travels. I explained how the paper, when full, opened
twice with no sign of creases, and this happened twice. I now had a very large
sheet of paper but didn't think it would open again.
Grandpa
thought for a while and then went to his desk; he brought out a beautiful pen,
polished wood with ornate carving. He said, I think that big sheet of paper was
meant for you, and if ever you get round to filling it, then this pen will
enable you to go off the page. You will write upon people’s lives with the
things you have to say; that’s how change is brought about. I asked if the pen
was magic; he laughed and said, no, the magic is inside you and it has already
begun to unfold.
