Dear Grandmother

You’d have turned 101 today and we, the family, would have asked again, “Tell us a story from when you were a young girl,” just like Matthew used to ask.

We still ask for those stories, you know, and we flip through pages till we find where we wrote them down. We do. We find them and smile, remembering our childhoods with you, our mother.

The Bare Maple

October’s luminous, flaming maple
stands almost bare
with a few worn, brown
leaves for covering.

Her beautiful red dress
now thin and tattered.
All she had was taken,
blown away.

She, with beauty deep within,
will let go of what she treasured,
what drew our eyes to her,
and she will wait.

There is something God can do
in the season of Lent.