| In this poem my Aunt Mary was recalling the days that she and her five children had lived with us. Betty and J.L.--my Mom and Dad--always opened their hearts and home to her and my cousins. Many relatives and friends remember with fondness the "suppertimes" at our house. We would sit around the table for hours after the meal, sharing conversations that covered a wide range of topics--our day's events, world and local news, politics, philosophies, religion and more. Laughter would often punctuate the talk. Even our heated "debates" were fun! Oh...it was never boring--never trite! The following poems, along with others of Aunt Mary's, are in the 1993 "Memories" booklet, as well. My aunt died a few years back and how we all miss her, along with our other loved ones who have gone on before her.. Oh...the older I grow, the more precious some memories are... |
| SupperTime Mary Townsley Suppertime...I can see us now, While we all got ready for that evening hour... Table was crowded, no room to spare, As we sat down to our plain fare. We all got to talk--the large and small; We learned from J.L. most of all. We didn't interrupt, all had a time As talk and laughter together chimed. Long after we finished, we'd linger there, Things don't get that rough when you share! Brown beans, potatoes and ground meat Were passed freely and we all did eat;, The sharing of our day, that was our feast-- Good talk and love that never ceased! Things never got hectic with J.L. sitting there-- A couple of words, he'd set it square! The squabbles that eight kids had Really weren't all that bad! There were two families there, you see-- Betty and J.L. always made room for my kids and me. Memories grow sweet as we grow old; They need to be opened, need to be told... It doesn't matter what's on a table there-- When it's love and laughter that you share! We pray we'll meet again someday... Suppertime we'll share up in the air! God will sit at the head-- AND from His table we'll be fed!! ********************************************** |
| I Wait for me, wait for me I cried, as I rushed to be by her side. The rest ran fast to climb a tree, my sister always waited for me. Sometimes I'd just catch the hem of her skirt, almost falling in the dirt-- that slowed her down, made her the last, as the other kids ran past. I'd freeze in terror when a dog came near... but, with my sister there, I didn't have to fear! She told me in later years, her fear of dogs almost brought her tears-- She had to be brave for me, I was small. But, only two years difference--that was all!! |
| II We laughed a lot, even as we grew old; Sad things were funny when we retold! She had a special zest for living-- Always loving and giving! If she had any fears, she didn't let them show-- she would always protect her loved ones, this I know. Love, courage and loyalty, that was her life... A good daughter, sister, mother and wife... Now... In heaven a new voice rings, as my sister softly sings.... Mary Townsley |
| My Sister, Betty |