Those Winter Sundays

In the poem "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden, the father works hard to keep his family warm and comfortable. "Then with cracked hands that ached" (line 3) sounds like many days of labor upon those hands. Even though father works so hard, he makes time to do favors too. "Who had driven out the cold/and polished my good shoes as well" (11-12). Sometimes we depend on our fathers too much. The narrator states "...No one ever thanked him" (5). Dont wait until it's to late, appreciate the things your father does for you and let him know you care. When you have a family of your own, you will know what your father meant when he said he gets no thanks.