My 86 year
old sister decided to give up her house in Central California and move into a
retirement suite. My wife and I drove up from our home Southern California, and
spent a week helping her sort through her life-time collection of stuff.
Outside near
the front door on the veranda where my sister now lives is a row of chairs
where residents often sit and watch the local comings and goings. The chair
nearest the door is usually occupied by a rather sober looking elderly
gentleman. I am a person who likes to make verbal contact with people I meet
and so every time I passed by I would make some comment to him about the
weather or the news – to see if I could get him to talk. Every comment I made was
either met with a small unemotional grunt or just a blank stare.
On the last
day while sorting through a box of junk, I came across a small item which I had
not seen in at least 50 years. It is a small toy made from two pieces of metal.
The top piece is shaped like the back of a large bug and the other is a small
spring-like flat piece. When the device is squeezed between your finger and
thumb, it makes a loud clicking sound. It
used to come in boxes of Cracker Jacks and breakfast cereal. I can still hear my
dad say “would you kids stop clicking that noisy contraption, it’s driving me
crazy”.
I showed the
toy to my sister and slipped it into my pocket.
On the
morning we were leaving to return home, we stopped at her new home to tell my
sister good-bye. On the way out, three gentlemen – including the quiet one –
were sitting by the door. I reached into my pocket and said: “gentlemen, I
found something while sorting my sister’s stuff yesterday, and I wonder if you know
what it is”. I pulled out the toy and clicked it a couple of times. Two of the
men who were usually talkative remarked that - yes they had played with it as a
child.
Suddenly the quiet one perked up, and leaning forward and pointing at it,
spoke with considerable emotion and authority: “Sir that is a cricket. It is what we used during the Battle of Normandy
to identify ourselves to our fellow soldiers”.
He then lapsed into his usual silence – but with a far-away look in his
eyes and a smile on his face. It was, after all, just a cricket.
