Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Copy
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399782" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The words of a child</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When we were small<br>my younger brother and I<br>had to stay with the Von Hörsten’s <br>during the day, <br>when my mother went to work</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and we had to play outside<br>and was threatened<br>that we would get dresses<br>when we wanted<br>to come into the house, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">but this staying<br>ended dramatically<br>in my sixth year.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night my mother wanted to know<br>how it is going <br>with out daily visitation, <br>whereupon I told her<br>that every thing was well<br>and my brother said<br>that I eat my food very slowly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I told her <br>that I do not like cabbage<br>and that we have to eat everything<br>or get a hiding<br>if something is left<br>on our plates.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mother said that vegetables<br>are good and necessary to eat<br>and I accepted it like that, <br>but it wasn’t the end<br>of the story.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a innocent child<br>my brother told this incident <br>to one of the Von Hörsten boys<br>who told it to his dad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I played in the hillock above their house<br>when all of the Von Hörsten boys suddenly<br>came running out of the farmhouse<br>and went in all directions<br>calling for me, <br>but I could immediately see<br>that there was big trouble <br>from the way <br>that they were shouting and searching.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I stayed were I was<br>and wondered about what was going on<br>and what terrible thing<br>I had done unknowing? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The much older and bigger boys<br>sneaked up that hill<br>and jumped on me <br>from behind<br>and grabbed me<br>and I was carried<br>right up to their dad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Uncle Hendrik was a man<br>that didn’t take nonsense <br>from anyone<br>and wanted to know from me, <br>why I did not want to eat<br>his wife’s food<br>and why I am saying<br>that her food tastes awful? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I said that it isn’t true<br>and he shouted<br>that I must stop lying<br>and jagged me closer<br>on my neck<br>with the hook of his walking stick<br>and hit me with it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stuttering I couldn’t get words<br>to explain <br>the circumstances<br>and then he shouted<br>talk man talk<br>and stop thinking <br>what to lie about<br>while he was still hitting me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I said <br>that I didn’t like cabbage<br>and got another hiding<br>and was said to be silent<br>or to talk the truth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I said that God is my witness<br>and that a day would come<br>that his words would also dry up<br>and be totally in confusion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a dog I was chased away<br>with a footsack shouted at me<br>and fled away from<br>his walking stick<br>to our house.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Von Hörsten’s called my mother<br>and told her about every thing<br>and she knew<br>from where my trouble came<br>and for a whole month<br>my brother had to eat cabbage, <br>because he talked <br>out of the house<br>and never again<br>we stayed over with the Von Hörsten’s.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> l’Envoi<br>Many years later<br>when I was at University<br>I saw uncle Hendrik Von Hörsten<br>on the campus<br>and we greeted each other<br>and spoke normally<br>about the things happening in the country<br>and about our families, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">but when he walked away<br>other students spoke to him<br>and the once known writer<br>spoke back in jabbering language<br>as if he didn’t know<br>what to say<br>and was totally confused.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was said<br>that he had Alzheimer’s, <br>but until today I wonder<br>about the power<br>coming from <br>the words of a child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Reference: The word uncle used here out of respect and local custom and not to point out family relationship.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=399782" data-title="The words of a child de Gert Strydom" data-description="When we were small my younger brother and I had to stay with the Von Hörsten’s during the day, when my mother went to work and we had to play outside and was threatened that we would get dresses when we wanted to come into the house, but t..."></div> </div> </div>
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black