Barn Tales

Wooden toys. In my mind, those two words conjure up images of big handmade trucks with wonderful sturdy wheels being dragged along by a toddler!

During my recent vacation I was roaming around a large old barn on the property of a friend when I noticed pulleys and other unusual paraphernalia hanging from the inside of this otherwise ordinary-looking building. It was definitely not a cattle barn, as most barns in the area are, so I inquired about the assortment of dangling objects. My companion was immediately able to give me an interesting history lesson regarding the barn and the Polish immigrants who had settled so long ago in that area of Massachusetts.

I learned that with very little capital they had established a community and begun a handcrafted wooden toy–manufacturing company inside the barn. The immigrants from Poland had come to the USA to enjoy free enterprise, and they were pleased to find their skills in woodworking supported them very well in this locale. They labored daily, cutting, sanding, polishing, and turning out sturdy and adorable toys: vehicles, four-car trains, barnyard animals, unique ducks, little frogs, dogs, and kitty cats. Orders for child-sized rocking chairs were filled and delivered right where I now stood. I could imagine the array of glistening tools and the smell of varnish mingled with sweat. I could almost hear the sound of Polish-speaking artisans, bantering back and forth as they labored at their craft or enjoyed a lunch of hearty meat pierogies.

Once a buzzing hub of creativity, the weathered barn now sat quietly among the colors of autumn, clean and tidy, and in use as storage for bicycles, a snow blower, garden tools, cedar closets, artist supplies, a chair in the refinishing process, and boxes of family possessions.

So, what has this to do with poetry? Probably nothing, except that in my heart, I find poetry in walking where others have gone before and discovering history—even in barns.

By Gael Stuart
The Silver Sage Blog