Slingshot please…and a dab of faith!

It’s not enough that we stole mum’s tights for the window cleaner to craft us some fishing nets but when thoughts turned to catapults and the like, we would struggle on and on and on to craft them from just the right shaped branches from trees we’d come across.  An alternative was an idea that sprung on me after taking careful note of our window cleaner – although, David & Goliath must take some of the blame…

Any decent corner shop at one time or another sold one or two catapults.  They weren’t brilliant but they worked.  Sadly though, had we been discovered spending the little pocket-money we had on such trifles, we’d have been told off and the catapults confiscated.  Instead we would fashion our own catapults from bits of tree branch.  This meant some damage to the trees, well, only the odd branch or two, we’re not talking deforestation here, but  now and then, where a branch forked, and it had a reasonable girth, then it’s harvesting surely never gave any concern for crisis and was put to good use…

As a Christian I know very well the story of David and Goliath (a story you’ll find in the Christian Old Testament (Hebrew Bible) and a little in the Qur’an) and that faith has played a huge part in my life from the moment I could think straight, and, in fact still does; if you’d have taken away my years of curiosity and dogged insistence that I ‘felt’ my faith, then you’d have seen nothing but a shell, a small person without a reason to think; and perhaps I’d have lived my little life on instinct alone – you know, feeding from waste bins and leaving my droppings in corners and such places as would a simple, feral beast.  Because it was this early ‘knowing’ that is still with me today, although I’ve yet to express myself fully in the manner in which I feel I would and could be most comfortable.  That’s another story…  My ‘faith’ or rather my God, has led me, leads me and will continue to do so – this I believe.  I also believe that it was the fault of David and Goliath which brought myself and my brother to book for the unceremonious theft and complete shredding of our mum’s braziers – well three of them anyway…

Now David had a sling – a weapon by which stones could be hurled with greater ferocity than any home-made or child’s catapult.  This gave me an idea.  Now what could possibly have the potential to double up as a slingshot.  Oddly enough, while Derek, our window cleaner was busy fashioning our fishing nets, we discussed briefly the making of catapults.  Derek suggested a bra would be a great sling!  No sooner mentioned and thought about than forgotten, however, it obviously glued itself into a corner somewhere in the matter that filled my little cranium because with a scent of mischief and almost a hint of DIY, the bra-come-sling idea popped straight back to the front of my mind very shortly afterwards.  Perfect.

We had so much fun, flinging and hurling all shapes of stones and rubble at one another with mum’s bras.  Once again, and not surprisingly, she failed to see the funny side…


About Robert

A fifty-something, retired Celestial Travel Agent. Walked many paths; some good, lots bad. Meandering through the past, plodding in the present, crawling toward the future.
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