The Hammer – A True Story

If this hammer could talk, what a tale it would tell. As I look down at its strong wooden handle and metal head I hear its voice. I catch my reflection in the shiny metal and see the woman I have become.

The handle is smooth. Rubbed down with the hand that has gripped it firm. Dirt shows around the edge. The part of the handle held, still shiny and sleek. The dirt rubbed away with the heavy work that has been carried out with its help.

My father used this hammer to pass his apprenticeship. Through the decade of struggling to become a carpenter, it remained by his side.

When he renovated the new house he moved into with my mum, it worked harder than him. He put up shelves, built new kitchens and repaired furniture.

The same hammer put our toys together when we were young. In later life, he used it to build furniture for us, as we grew. Later he could be found, hammer in hand, knocked the dents out of our first cars.

Years went by and this loyal servant stayed by his side. Through new businesses and houses, it was my father’s constant companion.

Fifty years of steady use, it was beside my father. Then it started to accompany him on his weekly trips to my new house. Again it supported him through renovating a house, this time mine.

My father, me and his trusted companion built kitchens, knocked walls down and built furniture. It supported us both, to turn a shack into a home.

When the job was complete I gained the greatest gift. My father passed his best friend to me and told me to look after him. My fathers longest friend was now my companion.

I have been given family jewellery and heirlooms. Nothing is as precious to me as this simple tool. Built from an age where everything lasted. The greatest gift my father could ever have given me.

Now I stand with this trusted soul in my hand. Feeling safe, knowing my father is beside me. It is now my turn to build furniture with it for a little one that is growing bigger. It is my turn to build toys from Santa with it. In time to come, it will be mine to hand to the next generation.

Others see a hammer. I see a trusted friend who will help generations of Arnold’s build and grow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s