Grandfather Clock


In the silence of the night, the chiming of a grandfather clock begins to echo in the room.

The sound is startling, and yet for some reason, soothing.

I notice the movement of my chest is in perfect sync with the swaying and ticking of the antique piece. My mind begins to wander as I gaze at a caricature moon etched inside the clock. And, as if she knows she has all the time in the world, she serenely stares back. Suddenly, she bursts bright against an empty expanse. A thousand tiny lights swiftly scatter like dust across the dark canvas and a cold wind pierces my skin.


A man slowly approached me from a dimly lit alleyway pushing a grocery cart that had one of those squeaky wheels. He was wearing an old red flannel shirt discolored by black paint and frayed jeans.

He called out to me, “Friend, can I borrow you for a minute?”

“Sure?” I replied.

 “Look at the moon and the stars," he said.

"Be amazed. Understand your size but realize your worth. Laugh and smile but understand the pain in your world. For when you ignore your own, you ignore that of others as well.”

As he pointed to the sky, he said, “Son, someone out there loves you and loves me too. Life isn’t about lotteries or finding luck in a deck of cards. It’s about in yourself to do the impossible.”

He paused briefly and continued to push his cart forward into the dim.

In the silence of the night, the swaying and ticking of a grandfather clock repeat its relentless rhythm.