Bobby's Song

Bobby was often alone. His father had left several years before to start another family, and his mother stayed in bed most of the time. Bobby’s grandmother, who lived with them, explained to him that his mother was “sick,” but he didn’t really understand what she meant. His mother didn’t cough or seem to be in any pain. But she rarely left her room, and she slept most of the day.

Bobby’s grandmother worked in the factory next door. She didn't make much money, but it was enough for them to scrape by. They lived on the second floor of a two-family house on a busy street. Bobby was afraid to stay in the house when his mother was asleep and his grandmother was working. So, he often sat on the front stoop playing with toys he kept in a plain brown shoebox. He would watch the factory workers pass by in the morning, at lunchtime and just before supper.

“Hello! How are you today?” they would sometimes ask him. But they were always in a hurry and could never stop for long.

At that time, there was a big war happening. Most of the world was fighting it. The war was far away from where Bobby lived, far over the ocean, but many people in Bobby’s neighborhood knew someone who had to go and fight in it.

One evening, as Bobby waited on the stoop for his grandmother to come home, he started to sing a song he often heard on his grandmother's radio in the kitchen. Bobby didn’t know what the song was about, but he liked the melody and it stuck in his head. He knew the last verse the best:

I’ll find you in the mornin’ sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you

“That’s a nice song,” said a lady, as she passed.

“O, I love that one,” said someone else, smiling.

Bobby glanced at them and blushed. But he kept singing. More passers-by stopped for a moment to listen.

“So sweet,” said one lady to another.

“Makes me think of my Bill,” the other replied.

“And my Joey. It wasn’t so long ago he was home playing with his toys. And now…”

The other lady patted her friend’s arm gently as they walked away. Bobby kept singing. A man dropped a nickel into Bobby’s shoebox as he passing by swiftly, saying, “nice song, kid.” Another dropped in a dime. Bobby’s eyes opened wide as he saw the coins fall into his box.

Wow! People give you money just for singing? he thought.

So, Bobby continued to sing, and as they left the factory, people continued to stop for a moment to listen and toss a few more coins into his box.

After some time, the little boy looked into his shoebox and couldn’t believe it! Inside, scattered among his army men and toy cars, were several bright, shiny coins.

Bobby’s grandmother walked up the sidewalk slowly as the last of the listeners began to walk away.
She eyed them with a curious glance.

“Hi, Bobby,” his grandmother said as she sat down beside him.

“Hi, Grandma,” Bobby said. He could see that she looked tired. “How was your day?”

“O, fine,” she said. “How about yours?”

He grinned and pointed at his box.

The old woman picked it up and looked inside. “Wow, where did you get that?”

“I was just sitting here,” said Bobby, “and people started throwing money in my box!”

“Now, why would they do that?”

“It must be the box,” he said. “Maybe it’s magic!”

“Magic, huh?” his grandmother raised an eyebrow. “What were you doing here while you were waiting?”

“What I always do. Playing with my army men.”

“Anything else?”

Bobby gave a bashful shrug and said, “I was singing, too.”

“Singing? What were you singing?”

Bobby blushed. “Just a song from the radio.”

“O ya? What song?”

“Well, the one that goes…” Bobby hummed the tune.

His grandmother thought for a moment.

“Bobby,” she said. “Those people gave you that money to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“For singing them that song. It’s special.”

Bobby looked at his grandmother.

“This is a sad time for a lot of people, Bobby. They can’t see the ones they love because of the war, and they miss them.”

Bobby listened.

“That song reminds people of better times. It makes them feel hopeful. Especially when you sing it.”

“Me? Why me?” Bobby asked.

His grandmother just smiled and leaned in to give him a hug.

“O, just because you’re you,” she said and winked.

Bobby felt proud. He never knew it could help so much just to sing a song.

“Grandma,” Bobby said.

“Yes?”

“Here.” He handed her the box.

“No, Bobby. This is your money. You earned it.”

“I want you to have it, Grandma. Then, maybe you won’t have to go to work so much.”

She hugged the little boy tighter. “O, Bobby. I wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could be home here with you more than I am.”

The two sat together for a moment listening to the crickets and the sound of car engines and barking dogs.

“Tell you what,” she continued. “Come out here every day with your magic box and keep singing those songs of yours. That’ll be your job. And I’ll be right next door doing my job, too. And maybe, in a little while, things will get better. Maybe soon we won’t have to be apart so much. And we can do more fun things together. Deal?”

“Deal,” Bobby said.

And they shook hands, stood up, and walked together into the house.