On our way home from church Sunday,
We caught bulging bus Twelve,
Laden down with teaching materials
We stood in the aisle,
Wobbled side to side,
Back and forth,
Hung on to the bar and each other,
As this dragon careened around corners,
Bounced in and out of rough places,
Leaped pot holes,
Jolted to stops,
Gobbled up and belched forth people.
Suddenly in accented English a voice called,
“Sit!”
I looked around as
A boy about eleven stood,
Showing his gleaming young white teeth
In a broad smile,
He gave me his seat.
I smiled too,
Thanked him in my best accented Spanish,
And gratefully sat.
Recipient of a junior angel’s kindness!
Cerita M. Hewett
May 17, 2009
Angels come in many sizes
From 0to100,
But angel who give his comfortable bus seat to you has made his Wings assured in heaven far above,
For did not God send his only son to heal the sick, forgive an heal the sinner and bring hope to the hopeless-
Christ gave up his seat in heaven to comfort us,
Bring us home and share in the comfort of heaven own..
Cerita…As always I love your poetry. We got a copy of your story about your mother. It was fantastic. Every woman should have one because “ordinary” women just arent celebrated and remembered. I am thinking I will try to write one for my mom who is usually remembered only in her really nasty old age. Is there a way that we can get digitals of your letter? Or at least digitals of the pictures you included in it?
Thank you for your kind words. I will check with Alisha and see how we might digitize it. Cerita
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You wrote Avery insightful response. Thank you so very much! Mom
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