The old man lived alone, crooked, bent with age, and with wrinkles filling his face like canyons. He lived alone, but he was not lonely, for the little boy visited him.

No one told the little boy to visit. Indeed, the boys parents were often saying that they should visit the old man...gramps, as they called him. But they were always too busy; working or trying to acquire wealth. But Bobby didn't mind. He liked being with the old man. Gramps was the only adult who treated Bobby as an equal, and the boy was sure that the old man looked at things the same way he did. He could even understand the old man's longing for the sea, which he'd left so very many years ago.

Many hours Bobby would spend at his Grandfather's feet, sitting and listening to tales of far away places and things that seemed almost mystical. In the company of the old man, Bobby would sail to those far away lands and see the wonders Gramps told him about. Then at the end of the day, Bobby would get up, give the old man a hug and a kiss, and rush off home. Always he'd hear the old man call after him, "One day Bobby, the wonders of the world will be yours, and I'll again go on one a voyage."

Most of all, Bobby loved it when Gramps would pull out an old, worn cigar box, opening it with trembling hands, and lift out the treasures within. Gramps would tell him the story behind each of the treasures. Bobby memorized those stories, because they seemed even more real than the other tales the old man told. It was what Bobby thought of when the old man would call after him, "One day Bobby, the wonders of the world will be yours."

Then one day Bobby went to see his Grandfather, but there was no answer at the door. Bobby tried to peer into the windows, but the years of dirt on them made that all but impossible. Bobby knocked and called for his Grandfather, but there was no answer. Finally one of the old man's neighbors called the police, who arrived to find little Bobby sitting on the front steps, his head in his hands. They got enough out of him to grow concerned for the old man, and broke down the door. One kindly policeman, after being inside for some time, came out and sat beside Bobby, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, son. Your grandfather is dead," the man said. "Can I take you home?"

"No, sir. I can walk," Bobby said softly, giving the bewildered officer a bright smile.

Bobby's mother and father cried at the news that the old sailor had passed on, saying that he still had so much life in him. Neither of them saw the contented look in Bobby's face, or his smile.

The service for the old man was short and private. Few people knew the old man, and fewer still cared. Even Bobby's father really knew little about the old man, because he was always gone, sailing the seas, when Bobby's dad was a boy. But when Bobby's parent saw their son walk up to the casket, they looked at each other, not understanding, for Bobby spoke words that neither of them could hear, then stooped to kiss the old man on the forehead one last time.

All the way home, they tried to get Bobby to tell them what he'd said to Gramps, but the boy would only say, "Not yet."

At home, Bobby's father wrested with himself for some time before pulling out an old battered cigar box and handing it to Bobby. Written in shakey script on a piece of paper taped to the top of the box were the words, "Give this to Bobby. Gramps."

Tears fell from Bobby's eyes at long last, but his mother and father misunderstood this, and when they tried to console the little boy, through the tears, they saw him smile brighter than ever before, and they stared at him, baffled. Bobby understood, and with reverence he opened the box, explaining as he took out the contents, one at a time.

First, he pulled out an old faded movie ticket stub.

"This half a movie ticket was from the first time Gramps took Gramma to the movie. It was there that he kissed her for the very first time."

Next was an old stamp.

"And this postage stamp was on the letter that came to him around half the world, to let him know that his son had been born. It was the first time his shipmates ever saw him cry."

Then came a piece of paper that was so old it was brittle, and had to be unfolded with care.

"And this piece of paper has the name of every man who sailed with him the last time. They names are faint, but they wished their captain well. They'd tried to talk him into staying, but it broke his heart to leave Gramma every time he went to sea, even more than it broke his heart to leave the sea behind."

Bobby pulled out a tiny bracelet.

"This is the bracelet I was given when I was born. You didn't have time to let him know about the birth, so you sent this to Gramps in the mail."

And finally, Bobby pulled out a small lock of gray hair.

"This was Gramma's. Gramps wouldn't let them bury her until he had a lock of her hair. He kept it on her pillow in an envelope for a full year after she died, so he wouldn't go to sleep without knowing she was there with him. He loved her more than anything at all in the world."

"The other things are just things he picked up around the world. They are the memories of his lifetime."

Bobby's parents sat in stunned silence, not knowing how they should act or what they should say, and Bobby's father fought hard to hold back tears, for the lost chances, the lost moments that he'd never have. But again, Bobby smiled very brightly at them.

"I don't understand, Bobby," his mother said. "Why are you smiling?"

"Gramps made a promise, and he kept it," Bobby said. "You see, he told me that one day the wonders of the world would be mine...they are now," he said as he tapped the box and carefully replaced the contents. Then he looked at his mother and finally at his father. "And now he is taking his last sailing trip. Gramma waits for him on a dock, and he is going to be with her, after all these years. It is the last trip he'll ever need to take, and he will never again need to leave her side."

*******

In life, there are people who are important to each of us. Don't let them go through life without knowing that you care and love them. And don't forget to stop to look at things with the simple wisdom of a child. You haven't lost that viewpoint, you've only forgotten it. Let it live within your heart once more!