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The Story of the Wooden Sword Maker:
A Biography

Will, Age 12, Martinez, CA

Down at the wood shop, a bent old man hobbled around tinkering with his latest creation: a perfectly weighted wooden sword.  That man is my grandpa, his name last name is Emery.  This is the story of a brave and courageous man who never faltered in his beliefs.

My grandpa has become famous in our hometown as a great wood worker, but in his late years he has become somewhat frail and his creations do not hold the same majesty as they once held.  That is to be expected as he has nearly reached 72.  He doesn’t look it though....

In his early years he was a soldier in the British army, but he did not care for the army life.  After he came to America he became a journalist for the local newspaper.  There was still something missing, something he could not figure out.  Then one day while taking a morning walk, he happened to come across a wood shop and something happened in his mind.

This is the job that would be his life’s work.

After about a year of saving, he pooled his money and bought that rickety, old wood shop.  By this time he was 33 years old.  He painted that little store bright red and fixed it up like new.  Soon it was as beautiful as he dreamed it would be.

There, he started working.  After days and days of making a couple of useless pieces of junk, it happened.  His masterpiece was created... The most beautiful sword you could ever see.  That day was to be the most joyful day of his life.

After several years of prosperity, disaster struck.  His little shop caught on fire and the flames decimated every one of his stunning swords.  He was down, but not out.  He fixed up that little shop for the second time, making it better than before.

I did not really know my grandpa until about a year ago and I am still getting used to his accent.  Well, now you know my grandpa.  Maybe you could meet him someday in his wood shop, hobbling around, working on his latest work of art.             
             
             Thanks to-
             my mom for always criticizing me when I need it most,
             and to my grandpa, who made this story possible.

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