I
remember as a little girl,
Even
though I was very young.
The
old time phone we once had,
I
still remember where it hung.
It
was really high upon the wall
And
I would sit and stare.
The
only way to reach it
Was
from standing on mama's chair.
I
remember it was polished
And
had a beautiful shine.
And
back in those old days,
You
didn't even need a dime.
I
loved to watch my mama
As
the handle she would crank.
The
sound of that old bell,
I
thought was very swank.
Soon
I would hear mama
Speak
into the phone.
I
loved to hear her gentle voice,
Such
a soft and lovely tone.
The
lady on the other end
Must
have known my mama well.
For
I heard my mama call her “Joan”
After
ringing that old bell.
Then
she would ask Joan
To
connect her to Aunt May.
I
guess she must have known her too
For
she put her through right away.
I
sat and watched and wished that I
Could
reach that old time phone.
I
wished that I could have one
To
call my very own.
I
had to see for myself
Just
how this thing would work,
So
I took a chair and climbed on it
And
gave that handle a jerk.
“Operator”
was what I heard
When
I heard this lady speak.
I
told her I was just curious
And
thought this so unique.
She
chuckled in my ear,
But
still I did not understand.
How
we could hear each other,
Clear
across the land.
She
said when I got older
I’d
understand it all,
And
when I was all grown up
She'd
be glad to take my call.
Well,
now I'm all grown up
And
have a phone of my own,
But
it has no crank to turn
And
no lady that mama called “Joan”.
~Author~
Ruth
Ann Mahaffey
©copyright,
June, 2003
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