Each year, the VFW Post 6658 Auxiliary sponsors a contest titled, “The Patriot’s Pen,” which is open to students in grades six through eight. Students are required to enter a typed essay of 300-400 words based on the theme: “My Pledge to Our Veterans.” Monetary prizes are given the winners on local, state, and national levels. Judging is based on knowledge of theme, theme development, and clarity of ideas.
If interested, please contact Annette Wivell at 301-447-3475 for an entry form. Entry deadline to VFW Post 6658, Emmitsburg, MD 21727 is October 31, 2022.
Memories of a Swing
Poem by Sue Clabaugh
Written for the man who made the swing and for my grandson who loved the swing.
My first memories of the swing are joyful.
I am a tot, too small to realize the full meaning of the thing
But aware enough of my feelings to know
It is a joy and it’s fun.
It’s also love. love from my Mother and Father
one in front and one in the back
pushing me from one to the other
a threesome—making one
Showing a family of love.
Years passed—now I’m five.
Old enough to know the swing is the first thing I run to in the park.
I want the thrill of the highs, thinking that each trip through the air
I will be able to touch the tree limbs with my toes.
And the best part is the feeling of love.
A happy love for
I’m being pushed—to and fro by my Granny
I trust her her—she pushes me higher than my mother does.
I’m brave because she is
the two of us—making one
Showing a family of love.
Sixteen now—The years have flown.
I sit on the front porch swing
dreaming of the boy I love
The handsome one, the one with the smile,
And quietly he sneaks up behind me
And gives the swing a sudden push.
I scream and he laughs as he sits down beside me
to say hello.
We begin to talk and share each other’s company
We are unaware that our nervous legs are pushing us
to and fro—making us one
Showing our feelings of love.
I’m old now, very old, feeling very alone
sitting here on this rickity old swing.
It’s the one my man made for me years ago.
It held our children and grandchildren
And then their grandchildren
All cuddled together
Swinging and smiling.
The one place that young and old could be a child.
I wonder what will become of it when I am gone.
Will anyone remember that
It brought a family together—taking turns swinging
to and fro—making us one
Showing a family how to love.
