A Little Golden Book Moment

I had a “Little Golden Book” moment last weekend.

I was up the back of my dad’s property, carting some of the wood that he was chopping back to the house. My son was helping. It was a glorious, sunny day. The leaves were quietly rustling in the breeze. The birds were softly calling and the kangaroos were watching warily in the background. Peace was all around.

The scene would have done any Little Golden Book illustrator proud, and the author would have had no difficulty in finding appropriate words.

“Grandad chops wood for the fire. Mummy pushes the wood in the wheelbarrow. Johnny stacks the wood next to the house. The house will be warm for winter.”

It was a truly idyllic scene and my heart was happy.

Later I wondered what about that moment had brought so much peace. Was it the quiet of the countryside? Was it the family working together in harmony? Could it have been the sense of security brought by the provision of wood for the winter fires? Was it being in the presence of nature without today’s technological distractions?

I would say all of the above, but I was also reminded of an enduring memory I have of my childhood.

My dad seemed to be always scrounging for, chopping and squirrelling away wood for our fire. It gave him great pleasure to provide for his family’s well being in this way. And it was, I’m sure, a means for him to let off steam and process his thoughts. For me as his daughter, although I could not have expressed it in such a way back then, it brought a sense of security. It was a tangible symbol of his love for and sense of responsibility for his family.

And now, with the passage of time, the circle has turned. While dad still chops his own wood, his children and grandchildren often help by carting and stacking it for him. It brings me peace knowing that we have ensured that he has enough accessible wood for his winter fires over the next few weeks until we see him again.

My reminiscences of the illustrations in the old Little Golden Books, and the fulfilment of seeing Dad provided for, were what brought the peace in that moment at the back of his property. The morality and the simplicity of my childhood and of the lives portrayed by many of the Little Golden Book stories, bring a nostalgia for times gone by.

If only life could be this lovely all of the time.

Nikki