down hill racer

 He found an old sled he’d made forty years ago, buried under junk. Inspired, he sanded, varnished, and sharpened the blades for speed. Pleased with the work, he went inside, where his wife of fifty years was baking his favorite holiday treats. "What have you been up to?" she asked. "You've been out in that workshop for hours."

"Do you remember the young kid who came every snowfall to shovel the walkway?" she asked, glancing toward the window.

"Yes, how could I forget?" he replied, smiling. "He always liked going to the workshop with you to learn how things were done right. I think you found a buddy."

She nodded, then said, "I heard he got a paper route and can be seen pulling his wagon of news around town. I remember the first time he made it up our road, knocked on our door, and asked if we'd like to subscribe to the paper. His face was beet red, tiny icicles hung from his hat—a young businessman on his way to success."

One December Saturday, with blizzard conditions forecast, they saw him trudging up the road. Blasts of snow must have felt like being sprayed with ice. He threw the paper on their porch. I opened the door and invited him in to warm up. His small body shook, but as he held a mug of hot cocoa, he began warming. He thanked us and said he had to finish his deliveries.

"Before you go, let me show you something in the shop," I said. He opened the door. The first thing the kid saw was an eight-foot red rocket sled. "Wouldn't it be easier and quicker to use the sled with the razor-sharp runners instead of the wheels that slow you down?" the man said. I had already rigged ropes to secure the load, leaving a spot for the kid to sit for the many hills ahead. "Go ahead, give it a try," the man said. The kid smiled, transferred the papers from the wagon to the sled, thanked his friend, and sat down. The man gave him a push. The rocket sled took off, just like its name.

The kid grew up and stopped delivering newspapers, but still showed up wherever a hill could be sledded, rocketing past every sled with laughter and shouts to move aside. Rumor says he married and had four kids, each with their own rocket sled, though none could ever beat their dad down the hills—he stayed a kid at heart, always on a mission.

Mike 2025