Hopscotch
By Therese M. Guy
Oct. 2009





Tough economic times are not new to my family. We seemed to have a proclivity toward the lower end of monetary wealth. Being impecunious (flat broke, for you who do not like big words) creates stress. Participating in vacations, sporting activities, and various other entertainment avenues relieves stress, by the average family. This presents our family with a conundrum, (I do like big words) we need to relieve the stress caused by the financial situation, but do not have the funds to participate in those recreational outlets.
Stress coupled with inactivity, and my genetic propensity for procrastination and sloth, could very well lead myself and other family members down that dark road of depression. On the other hand, our reaction to stress can lead us to creative ingenuity.
Most times we take the high road.
My husband William is very artistic. When our girls were younger he would grab sidewalk chalk and retreat to the driveway, girls in tow. They would spend a couple of hours drawing fantasy worlds on our cracked lined parkway. Sometimes William’s artistry combined with the manic side of his personality, and he became ingenious providing diversions from our bleak fiscal situation.
The best example of his ability to amuse on a budget came one balmy Sunday afternoon. Once again he took chalk in hand. He went to the sidewalk and created a hopscotch game that was a work of art. Each numbered square had a beautiful design in it. One was a dragon, another a butterfly. Then he returned inside. He gathered chairs and placed them in front of the big picture window of our living room. The window faced the sidewalk were the hopscotch game was. He indicated us to sit and brought snacks. At first we were puzzled, but it did not take long for the amusement to begin.
It started with an older couple, taking their daily stroll. They approached the hopscotch squares and halted. We could not hear what they were saying, but as they pointed and conversed, it was clear from their expressions that they were happily taking a walk down memory lane. It did not end there, next the sixty-some-year old lady hiked her skirt with a flourish and one leg came up behind. We all held our breaths as she balanced precariously on that one appendage. Then she was off hopping and skipping down the chalked sidewalk, her husband pursued, and his face sported a broad grin.
A short time later a young teen boy wearing faded, ripped blue jeans approached.
He walked with his head bent low, shuffling his duck taped, sneakers clad feet. He had one hand shoved in his jean pocket and the other held a smoldering cigarette. He too stopped at the edge of the colorful display. He studied the game for a couple of minutes. It seemed to me as if he was contemplating if any of the designs would make a good tattoo. He then raised his head and sheepishly looked up and down the street checking for onlookers, luckily he did not check our window. Once again a leg was raised, and off he went, one hop, two hop, two feet down and back to the one-foot hop. The disheveled youth did not seem so menacing at that point, not only were we enjoying the distraction to our daily worries, he too was transported for a moment to more simple times.
I can’t say I’m always so nonchalant about our money woes, but I think next time you are stressed you should remember this story, and take chalk in hand and let your creativity flow.