There was once an old Gobbiner called John O’ Joes, son of Joe O’ Johns an old miner who had long passed away. John O’ Joes’ son was Joe Johnson and his son was Johnny Johnson. The Johnsons lived together with their wives and Johnny’s little son Joe in a house somewhere on John Street. John O’ Joes was getting very frail and went to live with his sons, grandsons and great-grandson and in-laws. The whole family sat together at the table for meals but John O’ Joes’ eyes and hands weren’t what they used to be and he would often drop food off his fork and take ages to eat a little bit of his meal. Sometimes he dropped food on the floor or knock milk all over the table because his hands were shaking so much. Mealtimes were a bit messy and noisy!
Johnny and his wife were getting crammed with this and decided to do summat about Grandad. So they set a small table in the corner and John O’ Joes ate on his tod whilst rest of the family enjoyed their dinners together. Since he had broken one or two dishes, they served him his food in a wooden bowl. He sometimes had a tear in his eye as he sat alone but they still got huffed when he spilled owt and told him off.
Little Joe, who was five, watched all this in silence. Before supper one evening, Johnny noticed little Joe playing with scraps of wood on the floor and asked him what he was making. Little Joe sweetly responded, “Oh, I’m making a little bowl for you and mum to eat your food in when you get old.” He smiled and went back to work.
The whole family were flabbergasted and tears came to their eyes. Nowt needed to be said because they knew what must be done.