From Ruth and Sarah

Way back when I first became a contributor to this excellent site, the first post suggestion was to do something biographical. Talk about who I am. Of course, I didn”t do this, not in any formal sense. I struggled with how to capture who I am and what I”m about in 400-700 words.

Then I came across this writing prompt, and as any good prompt does, it got the creative juices flowing. Now, after many hours spent staring into the distance and thinking, I have a poem to share that describes where I come from, which is a huge part of who I am.

So here goes:

I am from Girl Scout badges, sewn on by hand, from Original Tide powder, and washing dishes up to my elbows in suds.

I am from the well-loved, the hand-me-down, the every room has a story to tell.

I am from the green grass, wet under my bare feet, the million fireflies on a cool, June night.

I am from the Christmas morning mad-dash, and silent embraces speaking volumes, from Clark and Charles, from Ruth and Sarah.

I am from the keep it to yourself and give until it hurts.

From your mother will always be with you, and never give less than your best.

I am from the body, the blood, nbso online casino reviews the soul, the divinity. From O come, O come, Emmanuel and Behold the wood of the Cross. From fiat, everyday fiat and grace like rain. From the One who says, “Behold I make all things new.”

I”m from down the shore, the Garden State, the Electric City, from sun-soaked Palermo and the Trail of Tears; from pasta sauce, always homemade and a recipe for stuffing carried across the ocean in Rose”s breast pocket.

From the time she threw his ring in the grass and said, “never again”, the strongest women I ever knew, and the redemption of a mother”s suffering offered freely.

I am from albums stacked high on dusty closet shelves, a mantle covered in years of smiles, from two yellowing letters (she made her e”s like mine), reaching across time to carry me home.

Where are you from?

h/t to Dwija