As Karl and I walked yesterday, we remembered neighbors who lived here when we bought our home a long time ago. What an honor to have met them. So often, when I read an obituary, there is a story of service and sacrifice. Their humility and kindness. My father was like that too. Veterans who lived to return home. And others who worked and served here. One of my uncles worked on the railroad. My mother was a teacher.
Everyone is needed and important.
And I remember this old poem.
cover the graves
Published in SMILE (edited/published by Joyce M. Johnson); and Humoresque (for the United Amateur Press Association of America, edited/published by Jean Calkins).
And reprinted here first on May 26, 2010.