From The Archives: Super Eraser

One boring Christmas morning, I opened up my gift.
With just one present left under the tree,
I once again grew solemn, and sad that we were poor.
Why were there never lovely gifts for me?

My gift was just a ruler, two pencils and two pens,
A small eraser and a pencil case.
My mom, who worked long hours, just wrapped me in her arms,
When she saw disappointment on my face.

“I’m sorry, Spud, I’m sorry. I wish we could have more,
But things have been a little tight this year.”
She held my arms so gently, a twinkle in her eye,
Then leaned back in and whispered in my ear:

“I think that the eraser, while looking fairly plain,
Is quite a bit more special than you think.
I won it in a raffle. It’s cutting-edge and smart.
It rubs out more than pencil lines and ink.”

I tested what Mum said then. I went in to my room.
It rubbed out pencil, pen, and even more.
I wandered over, pensive, and crouched down very low,
It rubbed the very carpet off the floor!

I moved up to the window. Outside there was some trash.
Some broken chairs and boxes—a whole load.
I rubbed it on the glass then, my eyes were opened wide.
Now no more junk was piled up on the road!

The next hour was a whirlwind of laughs and smiles and fun
As I found all the things I could erase.
The rubbish—gone! The dishes, the weeds all disappeared!
I cleared them all in an eraser craze!

I pondered and I planned, then. I found a secret place
To keep my new eraser safe and sound.
I didn’t want to waste it. I’d use it wisely now.
I’d save it for Mom’s stressed-out worried frown.

I’d keep it for my sister, for when she scraped her knees,
Or when she felt upset or sick or sad.
I sidled up to Mum, then, and hugged her tight and warm.
“Mom, thanks. This is the best thing that I’ve had.”

Image © Robbie Yates 2017

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