A Solemn Poem

Whispering wind is all that’s heard amongst the sleepy land so glum,

As powdered snow falls hastily, like dust of diamonds from the sky,

Contrasting shades of phantom darkness, brought about as dusk grows nigh;

The sealing of a solemn fate, is very soon to come…

It stings her ears with frosty breath, that frigid howling breeze.

Wincing from the biting gusts, at hands grown numb by cold,

She cradles in her tired arms a whimpering child, not that old.

She presses on –that weary girl–for fear that they shall freeze…

Against the sea of snow she wades, though weathered by the squall,

Blackness shrouds the land before her, beneath a somber sky of gray,

She glances upwards in distress, fearing what will come today.

In silent prayer she sloshes forward, holding tight her babe and shawl.

Against time she races incessantly, to escape her surely forlorn fate.

Like creeping specters in the night fatigue and weakness haunt her;

The blustery winds and swirling snow make seeing things a gray-white blur,

But still she stumbles onward, in worry that it’s getting late.

To a crooked tree amidst the wood she stops to rest a while,

Out of breath and beating heart, she slumps down on her knees,

She lays the babe amidst the snow, beneath the twisted tree.

“I’ll close my eyes for just a bit,” she whispered with a smile.

And so, she laid her head down and she gazed up at the moon.

While ice-cold tears of hopelessness streamed softly down her cheeks,

Exhaustion overtook her and she drifted fast asleep,

The powdered snow she made her bed had come to be her icy tomb.

Wrapped up in his tattered rags, the child whimpered in the snow,

To his mother he cried out, but to his rescue no one came,

And near him lay a grim reminder of how his fate is much the same.

Succumbed by sleep, he closed his eyes, and joined his mother’s tale of woe.

Copyright ©2011 Michael Althouse

Aunt Vada's Eulogy

Vada Miller. Words can only begin to describe that remarkable woman we call our Mother, our Sister, our Grandmother, our Aunt, our Cousin, and our Friend. A true southern bell with old-school values, and a noteworthy seamstress with a knack for exceptional cooking and baking. A sassy sophisticated woman with an eye for fashion, Vada always wore her Sunday finest day-in and day-out complete with elegant jewelry, polished makeup, and an up to date cut and color. She always looked immaculate wherever she went, and that is perhaps one of the most noteworthy recollections people seem to make of her today aside from memories of her cornucopia of confectionary creations. I never will forget her seven-layer cake with homemade chocolate frosting, something I looked forward to whenever I knew she was making it and that the family and I famously dubbed the “Vada Cake.” As we look back on her life, we remember Vada as a woman with a great sense of pride, pride in her work and pride in her family. She valued her family above all things and always stressed the importance of working hard and pursuing an education as paramount to succeeding in life. Now as we come together in congregation to this church today, let us not mourn the death of Vada, let us not shed tears of sadness, but rather let us celebrate the life of an extraordinary hard working woman who devoted herself to serving her friends and family. We must make realization that she is now in a better place, a place without worry, without aging, without sickness, without death. A place where she can forever bathe in the glory of the Lord and the love of her friends and family who have for so long anticipated their reunion with her, for this is not an end but rather another beginning. We must accept life as it is, to cherish the beautiful memories we’ve shared, and understand that we will all be together once again some time from now. Until that day, Vada will be forever busy baking cakes for the angels. May she forever rest in peace.