Monday, February 11, 2008

Our favorite banker

Recently, as I mentioned in this journal, our kind-hearted banker with a sense of humor passed away.  Although we didn't really move in the same social circles, Larry would have gladly welcomed us into his circle, I'm sure.  That's how he was.

He was the banker who would give anyone a chance, as long as they seemed sincere about wanting to get ahead.

His children were in the same grades as my children.  In fact, I think perhaps his daughter was my son's first girl friend... in the fifth grade.

You can't imagine how much Cliff and I respected and loved this man.  He bailed us out at a very crucial time in our lives.

By the way, if any of my readers want to pay homage to the man for my sake, go the the Shriner's hospital website and leave a donation in memory of Larry Wims.  Don't mention me there, please.  This isn't about me.

You can't imagine how honored I was to receive a note from Larry's widow when I returned home from my trip to Texas:  she wanted me to know that a poem I wrote years ago was read at Larry's funeral. 

Humbly I share that poem with you, a poem written at a difficult time when my husband had lost his job and we had nowhere else to turn except to our banker.


                               THE MANY FACES OF SANTA
                                       (c) December 4, 1993
                                               Donna Wood

Christmas was a wondrous thing, back when I was a child ---
Pretty lights and tinsel; "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild"---
And each succeeding Yuletide seemed the best there ever was,
Made brighter by a spirited  old elf named Santa Claus.

Santa changed a little, as I traveled through my youth,
For, up in elementary school, I somehow learned the truth;
It didn't spoil the many happy Christmases I had,
But now, it seemed like Santa looked a lot like dear old Dad!

Then I grew up and married. Dreams are bigger, when you're grown,
And I longed for a Gibson Dove guitar to call my own.
When it appeared beneath the tree, you betcha, I felt good!
And that year, old Saint Nickolas looked just like Clifford Wood!

By and by, along came Jim, my bouncing baby boy,
And after that came Rachel; every Christmas, they'd get toys.
It didn't take a lot to fill their little hearts with glee:
About that time, I realized that Santa looked like me!

With Cliff's new job, this Christmas season looked a little bleak;
It takes all we can do to make it through from week to week
But once more, I've found Santa, and I even spoke with him:
He bears a strong resemblance to our banker, Larry Wims!


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Now playing: Iris Dement - When I was yours and you were mine
via FoxyTunes   

7 comments:

exptmircle said...

That was so beautiful it made me fill up with tears.  You touched my heart.

lmitc89854 said...

What a nice way to honor Larry and for them in turn to honor you by reading it.

madcobug said...

This is very good. I can see why they would have it read at the funeral. Helen

loisontheweb said...

  Your poem probably expressed what was in the hearts of many who heard it.
LOIS

mutualaide said...

Mosie ... not only is the poem good, but the fact that you actually sent it to him -- so that he new during this life how good he was -- is even better.

gen0507 said...

Your poem is beautiful.  I'm sure it toucned Mr. Wims very deeply.  I know he had to be a very good man.  There's VERY FEW out there now in the banking world like him.  We need more like him.  God Bless Him & His Family.

Hollie

helmswondermom said...

Donna, that was a terrific poem, and I can only imagine how very honored you must have felt to know that they kept that and read it at his funeral.  What a great honor!  And he obviously was a very good, kind, much-loved man.
Lori