A Dinner of Thanksgiving

          She was just a bent old lady
          Her hair was full of gray
          I was just a child of seven
          Who had stepped outside to play.

          Her dress was worn and tattered
          She looked so frail and thin
          But her eyes were warm and caring
          And she kindly asked me in.

          As the morning hours were fading
          I recall her gentle plea
          “Please stay a little longer
          And enjoy a meal with me.”

          I had no way of knowing
          That her shelves were nearly bare
          But it didn’t really matter
          She was glad to have me there.

          The meal was small and meager
          But I felt like I’d been blessed
          When I sat there at the table
          And she served to me her best.

          In honor of her memory
          This moment I will seize
          To be thankful for the bounty
          When we shared a bowl of peas.

          I am humbled by her spirit
          Unblemished through the years
          She’s smiling down from heaven
          As I wipe away these tears.

          For she, too, still remembers
          That warm delightful day
          When a little girl of seven
          Had stepped outside to play.

~ Marilyn Ferguson ~

[ Author: Marilyn Ferguson Copyright © 2002 -- submitted by: Marilyn Ferguson ]


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