The Bethlen Home Messenger, 1990 (1-3. szám)

1990-03-01 / 1. szám

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"WHAT DO YOU SEE?"

What do you see, nurses" What do you see?

A crabby old woman, not very wise; uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes.

Who dribbles her food, and makes no reply, when you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try." Who seems not to notice the things that you do, and forever is losing a stocking or shoe.

Who, unresisting or not, lets you do as you will, when bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.

Is that what you're thinking, is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse. You are not looking at me!

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,

as I move at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of 10, with a father and mother, brothers and sisters who love one another.

A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet, dreaming that soon now a love she'll meet.

A bride soon at 20, my heart gives a leap, remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

At 25 now, I have young of my own, who need me to build a secure, happy home.

A woman of 30, my young now grow fast, bound to each other, with ties that should last.

At 40 my young sons are grown and soon will be gone, but my man stays beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At 50, once more babies play round my knee, again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.

I look at the future, I shudder with dread,

For all my young are busy, rearing young of their own; and I think of the years, and the love that I've known. I'm an old woman now, and nature is cruel.

It's her jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart; there is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells, and now and again, my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys, I remember the pain, and I’m loving and living life all over again.

I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast, and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, nurses, please, open and see; not a crabby old woman. Look closer ... see me! !

ONE EASTER LONG AC.O

When I was but a little Miss, and you a sturdy boy, We planned one Eastertime to fill Our mother's heart with joy.

We wanted to surprise her;

We yearned to make her glad;

So we saved up all our money Every penny that we had.

And we'd creep away to count it,

In the attic dim and cool,

Or to add some boarded coppers To that precious little pool.

Then we'd whisper, plan and giggle In our innocence and bliss When you were but a sturdy boy,

And I a little Miss.

We wished to buy a flower,

A fragrant lily tall...

But the pile grew, O, so slowly!

Though we scrimped and saved it all.

While we planned and whispered there,

Upon the attic stair.

We thought the Mother'd heard us!

We wondered if she had But when the smiling face appeared,

We saw that it was Dad.

His eyes were bright and happy, and we knew he must have heard.

But he reached into his pocket and he never said a word.

Then early Easter morning We went to Mother's bed With our sacrificial offering A pot of tulips red.

Since then has many a springtime passed; and many a lovelier bloom Has found its way on Easter day to brighten Mother’s room.

But none was ever loved so much Indeed, none seemed so fine As that first simple blossom On that long gone Easter time.

Then, with lots of love and pennies,

A little lass and lad bought an Easter flower for Mother With a little help from Dad!

A ROSE FOR MOTHER

Another Mother's Day is here, Bringing joy and pleasures new, On this special day, Mother dear,

I want to remember you.

I cannot give you costly gifts, And I've told you this before,

No matter what I give to you,

You give back much, much, more.

I'm giving you a pure, sweet rose, Gathered in the early mom,

This rose you planted in my heart The day that I was bom.

In kindly, loving thoughts of you.

And with the faith you still impart,

The rose 1 give to you today Is the love that's in my heart.

By Cleo M. S hoff stall