Linking with Shay's Word Garden Word List -- The Last To Go
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Beauty has no boundaries, no rules, no colors. Beauty is
like a religion. You can include everything inside it. ~ Alessandro Michele
My grandparents had a colored maid, at least that was the expression my Grandpaw used. At the time, I thought she was older but I realize now, I was wrong. I am certain she was an old soul though. She came twice a week to do what my Grandmaw couldn’t. She had a down to earth way about her, and had 7 kids, a husband that wouldn’t work, and no car. She would take the bus and walk from the corner stop. She had her own small closet in the dinette area, changed her shoes and put on an apron with pockets and began the many chores expected of her. All the while, she would hum and she always sang like there wasn’t a care in the world. Her name was Miss Jesse, and she was beautiful in every way. I once asked her why she was black and her face lighted up like a soft lamp as she said, “child, God made some of us black and some of us white".
I will never forget her.
There was more than one layer she wore of the truest beauty.
Each flowed around her like scarves in storm’s way.
And she carried them all close enough
but also gave them as ribboned gifts
to her children and to their children’s children.
Diamonds that sparkle and coals that warm like seasons
within her eyes
except winter,
that she saved for just one man.
That bitter cold is why she learned to be tough!
Something she never wanted or planned on
but hunger drives us to climb, hunt, and borrow.
So, she became a totem of strength;
tall with a certain might that only the bearers of true burdens
know.
Callused hands from scrubbing
and a heavy heart
from deeper worries,
yet she chose to love like a mother to the whole world
with a voice that was always lovely.
Her boys were her deepest of prayers
and they were her
inkwell of something more
upon a page like a scripture.
She memorized and sang them all by name
until they were as known to Heaven as the most worn page in
a hymnal.
My next door neighbor had such a lady, named Hannah. We kids called her Hannah Banana simply because it rhymed. Now it sounds pretty racist but that never occurred to us. Like your Miss Jessie, Hannah seemed always to be smiling, always seemed at peace with herself. Yours is a lovely tribute to a special woman who clearly took what life handed her and made it work.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful to read prose at the Garden and such a skilfully written and enchanting story it is not only in language but in message - a delight to read - Jae
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ReplyDeleteThis is such a beautiful piece, Carrie. I am completely drawn into the story of this woman, of her strength and her kindness and warm spirit. No one knows the burdens others bear, especially we as children seeing such a small part of the whole, but I'm sure in the eyes of a child lies the truest, most pure judgement. I especially love this line: "..yet she chose to love like a mother to the whole world..." Those who choose love are the real minority in this world, and should always be cherished and celebrated. (Forgive my misnomer in the deleted comment. My eye caught the wrong word, and my brain forgot to change it.No one could mistake your style here except an aging brain with not enough coffee.)
ReplyDeleteMy comment from yesterday disappeared. "Yet she chose to love like a mother to the whole world" really speaks to her joy, rising above hardship and singing her way through. What a wonderful person, and you capture her so well we can see her. Beautiful, Carrie.
ReplyDelete". . . . until they were as known to Heaven as the most worn page in a hymnal." How beautifully said, and wonderfully portrayed is Miss Jesse in your poem! I have known one or two in my life, brushed shoulders with some others, and each one haas been, however briefly, like "Diamonds that sparkle and coals that warm like seasons within her eyes." They are the salt of the earth.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful story and story poem .... it warmed my heart more than I can express. Brava, Ms. Carrie.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful story, and poem. You let me see her, hear her, feel her. Thank you
ReplyDeleteA genuine, moving portrait of a woman's transformative journey, tempered by love and adversity... What a beautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful work Carrie! "There was more than one layer she wore of the truest beauty. / Each flowed around her like scarves in storm’s way." is a fantastic line, and really expresses how this person lived in the world.
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