Issue 116 / March - April 2017
Dad and Luna Park
Those were the days when we barely made ends meet. When we
went to Luna Park, we watched other people as they rode bumper cars and the Ferris
wheel. They laughed and had fun. We would not join them. My father would
insist, but we couldnÔÇÖt; we knew he couldnÔÇÖt afford much. We enjoyed just being
there, and our inexpensive amusement made our dad so pleased that we could see
on his face the relief hidden in his soul.
Whenever our father was upset, we would ask him to take us
to Luna Park, and he would. We never took any of the rides; not the cars, nor
the wheel we adored watching so much. But it would make dad happy again. All
the troubles plaguing his mind would be gone. Perhaps he was thinking how funny
we were, and as he silently chuckled to himself he was forgetting his distress.
Perhaps he was being proud of our rather early display of maturity.
Whenever our father was upset, we would take him to Luna
Park, not the other way around.
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