Tuesday, August 21, 2007


Imagine! You were only eleven or twelve.
My God! So young.
Away from home,
Far from Mama.
Probably for the first time.

And expecting your first baby.
Your husband is kind and thoughtful,
But he’s a man, and doesn’t know these things...
And he can’t find rooms at a hotel –
They’re all sold out...
And he has to find a midwife--
Though you’re from out of town--
And bring her on the run...
How long did you wait alone?
Feeling the contractions,
Not knowing what to expect.

How alone.
How frightened.
How you must have longed
For your mother’s hand.
So hard,
Not to know
What’s going to happen.
So hard,
To be alone.

I remember,
I wanted to KNOW
The set-up,
The doctor,
The midwife,
All ahead of time.
And, I wanted my mother,
To hold my hand,
To BE there.

My heart goes out to you.
Can prayers and heart-felt wishes
Reach across the vast, gaping
Void of time and space?
Hail, Mary, full of grace
May grace be with you,
Poor dear. Pray for me, a sinner,
Now and at the hour of my death,

And I will pray for you.
Sweet virgin,
Child mother,
Trusting in the goodness of the world.

And oh!
How it was a sword
In your heart,
That trust.
You sent your son,
And they broke him
And sent him back.
And still you trusted.

Teach me trust,
Teach me hope,
Teach me patience,
Teach me love.
And trust, that trust.


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