Summary:  This story was originally posted on Bonanza World.

It’s Promotion Day for Adam Cartwright and Pa helps him deal with cold feet. Just a brief story to celebrate Father’s Day.

Rating:  K  1650

Father

 

To my own father, Paul: Thanks dad for always being there for me. You always had faith in me and gave me the strength to try things I would never have tried without your words of encouragement and support. I cherish the horse rides on your back, the hours of shooting baskets together, and you just being there for me. I love you so much.

 

Ben Cartwright guided his 8 year old son into the one room school house. They found two empty seats and sat down mid-way up the narrow aisle. Two year old Hoss Cartwright sat comfortably on his father’s lap. His eyes wide open in wonder at all the people. Adam glanced nervously around at his fellow classmates and their families. He had never seen the school so full. People were lined up against the windows on both sides; their bodies blocking the sunlight and casting eerie shadows against the ceiling, floor, and walls. Adam felt the lump in his throat growing bigger and bigger. He felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. In a matter of moments, his teacher would bring everyone to order and then…

Adam just bowed his head and closed his eyes, trying to battle the fear building inside him. How could he face all these people? At first, he was excited about Promotion Day. It was the first one for him. His classmates had told him that is was a lot of fun, particularly the picnic afterwards. In fact, for the last 2 weeks, that’s all Ben Cartwright heard from his boy’s lips.

“Miss Wordsworth says that she’s going to pick a piece of our work for us to share, Pa. She says I’m going to read a piece of my writing because I’m good at writing. She says that we can’t share what we’re going to do, though. She wants it to be a surprise.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I’ve done a lot of writing this term, Pa. There’s a lot of it that you haven’t seen either. Miss Wordsworth keeps it in our portfolio, Pa. That’s a folder with all our work in it that we get to take home after promotion. I wonder what piece of writing she will pick, Pa?”

“Well, that I can’t answer, son, but I do know that Miss Wordsworth does not want to see a sleepy boy in class tomorrow. I think it’s time for you to close your eyes and get some rest.”

“Yes, Pa, I hope you like my story Pa. I’m good at writing stories.”

“Yes son, you are quite imaginative. Now, enough talking and close those eyes.”

Adam complied.

“Goodnight son.”
“Goodnight, Pa.”

Ben Cartwright reached down to give Adam a kiss, and then leaned over to kiss his already sound asleep baby brother. He was just about to leave the room when Adam made one more attempt at conversation.

“Pa?”

The only reply was the soft click of the door as it shut.

Adam’s excitement lasted until the day he received the piece of writing his teacher had chosen for him.

“Poetry! Why poetry?” he moaned. “How do you read poetry and make it interesting?” he thought, “Especially this form of poetry.”

Adam grumbled. Adam griped, but he was not a quitter. He practiced secretly in the barn every day. He read it over and over to his 2 year old brother, who always giggled and clapped in approval. He read it over and over but the words just seemed to fumble out of his mouth. There wasn’t any rhythm or rhyme scheme. No matter how hard he tried, the words never gained fluency. He wanted them to flow like a river from his lips, but instead they simply spewed out in jagged lumps over the rapids.

Adam was so focused on this dilemma that he never once thought about speaking in front of a group of people until he walked through those doors dressed in his Sunday best with his father and baby brother at his side.

“Welcome everyone! I’m so glad that you could join us on this special day; a day we gather together to celebrate your children’s growth and educational development. It is my pleasure to announce that every student this term has passed their exams and will be promoted to the next level.”

The room erupted with applause. Suddenly, Adam felt his father’s hand squeeze his upper thigh. He opened his eyes and looked nervously up at him.

Ben then gave him one more reassuring little pat and then both turned their attention back to the teacher.

“Today we will start with our outstanding mathematicians. These students have shown the incredible ability to figure numbers and operations in their heads. Samuel, Peter, Amanda, Robert, and Isabelle, Will you please take your place in front of the room.”

The five students of varying ages formed a straight line facing the crowd. The teacher then went down the line giving them math problems to which they solved quickly and efficiently. Adam sat quietly figuring with them and in some cases achieving the answer faster than the student on display.

“Next, we have the students who have achieved the most in reading this term. Jacob, Martha, Pauline, Stevie, and Mark, Will you please come to the front of the class.”

The five students complied, each reading a story from their current reader.

“Now it is time for our writers to come forward. These students have written wonderful pieces of writing that they would like to read to you. Joseph, Verna, Margaret, Adam and Francis, please come forward.”

Adam looked instantly down and remained seated. Suddenly he felt his father lean close and whisper in his ear, “Think of this audience not as a room full of strangers, but a room filled with 50 replicas of your baby brother… oh, and one proud father, of course.”

Adam snickered at the thought and smiled. He looked up at his father and received a reassuring smile and wink. This was enough to give him strength to walk to the front of the class and take his position at the end of the line.

It seemed like eternity before he finally heard his teacher say his name. Adam cleared his throat and tugged slightly at his collar. His mind once again fell on the advice of his father, “Think of this audience not as a room full of strangers, but a room filled with 50 replicas of your baby brother… oh, and one proud father, of course.”

That’s when it hit Adam. He had been looking at his poem as words on a page, not as words that have meaning. He cleared his throat one more time and began.

“I’ve written an acrostic poem. Ms. Wordsworth asked us to pick a topic that we felt was most important to us. It could be a person, a place, or thing. She had us write the word going down vertically on our paper. We then had to write words or phrases that represented that topic. Each word or phrase had to start with each corresponding letter in the topic. My word was father.”

At that moment, Adam locked eyes with his father. He did not read his poem from the page. He recited the words directly to the person that they honored.

“Father
By Adam Cartwright

Feeds and takes care of us
Always finds the time
To listen and
Help us with our problems
Every day I’m glad he’s there
Ready to lead us and help us learn”

 

There was brief silence, and then a bright blue-eyed little boy appeared, being held up high above the crowd. He giggled and clapped and giggled and clapped.

“A—dam…A—dam” his small voice shouted. Then he giggled and clapped some more. The crowd found this new entertainer amusing and the room filled with laughter. Adam blushed slightly as he felt his face reddening. Then his teacher stepped in to take control.

“Thank you all students for your outstanding work this term. Now if everyone will line up to the right of my desk, we will pass out the promotion certificates.”

All students eagerly lined up to receive their award. Not long after, Adam found himself walking out of the schoolhouse with his father at his side. They stopped briefly at the wagon to gather their lunch and then made their way to the schoolyard to partake in the afternoon festivities.

As they set themselves down under a big pine tree, Adam cautiously looked up at his father. “Pa, I… uh….well… thanks.”

Ben looked down at his son. “Thanks? May I ask what for? Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you, son?”

“It’s just that if you weren’t there…. I don’t think I would have been able to face those people.” Adam bowed his head ashamed.

Ben Cartwright reached over and placed his arm around his son’s shoulders, drawing him near. “Son, there will be many times in your life when you will be scared, scared of what you might not be able to do, scared of what people might think if you tried. Don’t let fear stand in the way of your hopes and dreams. Just remember that there’s no time to be afraid. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Everything!”

Ben looked down at his son as he processed his father’s words. There still was uncertainty in his face.

A moment later, Adam looked up at his Pa.

“You mean that I should think of the world not as a room full of strangers, but a room filled with 50 replicas of my baby brother… oh, and one proud father.”

Ben let out a loud chuckle as he reassuringly squeezed his son’s shoulder.

“Yes, son,that’s exactly what I mean.”