I memorized this in elementary school.
I always felt so bad for sweet Hector. I mean, look at him hiding his little face…..awwww
(I was also a bit envious of his trunk. Oh the possibilities!)
HECTOR THE COLLECTOR
by Shel Silverstein
Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.
Pieces out of picture puzzles,
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin’ guns that wouldn’t shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn’t float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn’t toot.
Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
‘Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul
Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin’ gold.
Hector called to all the people,
“Come and share my treasure trunk!”
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked…and called it junk.
Hector and I would’ve been fabulous friends.
You know how magazines or tv shows ask celebrities what they have in their purses? I’d like to know what they have in their junk drawers! What doesn’t have an official place in their home, but is worth keeping?
What memories do we harbour in junk that will eventually end up in the trash or our own estate sale?
Or better yet, what de we hope to make memories with? What projects or events are waiting to happen?
There’s a pack of polk-a-dotted drink umbrellas that I grabbed on sale…. just waiting for a bridal shower or end of summer bash.
I also have a package of ‘girls night out’ cocktail napkins that were for a party that had to be canceled, a reminder of a near tragedy in my family’s life.
I also have a dusty box.
Not of junk,
‘THAT THEY LOVE ME’
It holds all of the precious gifts that my toddlers made for me.
My shell necklace, mini pinecones they found just for me, rose petals, Mother’s day cards, profound letters of apology, coupons, and tickets for kisses that I’m holding on to for when they’re standing at high school graduation and are too embarrassed to give me sugars.
This is the box that will go with me to the old folk’s home.
“Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin’ gold.”
Everything else they can sell in my estate sale.