Visiting the Old Carpenter’s Shop Again

The early morning sunbeams bounced across the floor of the shop. It almost danced with glee as the day arrived.

I am early for my day’s appointment with visitors to the Village. I am not sure who will come to share the events of the day. This is before time begins.

This is one of the most amazing scenes – just before the activity starts.
Outside the birds are singing their clear and crisp day song. They have been in bed long enough. It is time to start the day.

As I stood watching the scene open before I was reflecting of this small village and all that it has meant to the folk that began here. I thought of their kids as they played on the very old and unpaved street. So many dreams over the years – some many fulfilled and some unfulfilled. Time has moved on.

The Lang Pioneer Village is a pause in time from the bustle of the “Other Ontario” where all things move at a million miles an hour.

Lang Village started in and around 1856 with the first folk came from Scotland and the other areas of the British Aisles. They came with hope and vision – and sometimes little more. With this H & V factor they carved out a special place for their generations to follow.

On this day I become a part of the life of the Village by becoming the carpenter of 1856 again.

It wasn’t long for the reverie. It was broken by, “WOW! Let’s go in here…” Excited young voices danced over each other to find a place in my Carpenter Shop. Their bight eyes watched my every move as I demonstrated the things that the ancient carpenters once held in their husky hands.
I began my day with, “Welcome to the Hastie Carpenter Shop. My name is Grandpa Lincoln….”

During the morning at a lull I couldn’t help think of the original Grandpa that had stood in this shop and welcomed his grandkids. That man died almost 100 years ago… but some how it felt as if he was still there. NO – I did not see a ghost of an old carpenter! By the imagination that God gave me is very active.

I couldn’t help thinking that the Old Scott, Mr. Hastie, was happy again to see his shop field with bright eyes again. I think he grinned when the skinny little guy tried to hold the large wooden mallet.

May you find a place to savour some memories this summer.

~ Murray Lincoln ~
http://www.murraylincoln.com/