He was tall and strong,
Didn’t say much, just watched.
I would climb up the trees to get mangos,
As he would watch.
I would fall and he would watch.
I would wait for my share of those juicy fruits,
Yet I would never get any.
Being the smallest I would cry,
Then he would call me.
Taking me to his secret stash,
And letting me pick as many as I pleased.
He would then smile and tell me to go play.
Those were my fondest memories of him.