DILEMMA

Someone once told me that whenever he hears a siren he pauses for a few moments and offers a prayer in which he calls to Heaven's attention the emergency situation and solicits divine protection of behalf of whomever the vehicle is heading for as well as the driver of said vehicle (or vehicles as the case may be) which struck me as an admirable thing to do and so tried it a few times myself wondering if it did any good for the people involved or if it merely made me feel virtuous and also if in the case of a police car chasing a perpetrator I should pray for his escape or his capture (or hers as the case may be).

THE HOUSE

The house they moved to when
he was two sat at the top
of a hill and was called,
he later learned, the Temperance
House. Years back it had been
an inn whose owner found Jesus
and threw out all his
bottles of booze to the chagrin
no doubt of his formerly
pie-eyed patrons.

At three the house cribbed
a sister. At four he and she caught
whooping cough but survived.

There were more rooms than
they had things to put in
and he was told never to go up
to the fourth floor. He did not
ask why not. He was not
at the why-not stage (that came
later) but one winter afternoon
he climbed the cold back
stairs and looked at the empty
floors and discolored walls
and shadows in the corners
and began to believe in ghosts.

NOMINATION

I propose an award:
    "Most Unnecessary invention of . . ."
No, change that to:
    "Stupidest Invention of the Modern Era."

I also have a nomination:
The Leaf Blower.

Yes, its roar is irksome
and yes, it gobbles fossils;
that merely makes it a pollutant,
not a stupidity.

But if you've ever spent a sunny afternoon raking golden contributions from backyard maples into a hip-high pile and then thrown yourself backwards into its feathery embrace . . .

well, then you understand.

CATHERINE

It was a pleasant enough place
as nursing homes go,
well-lighted, clean, almost cheerful.
They'd told me she was blind
and so I wondered
why she said on my first visit:
"Isn't this a pleasant room?"

Her husband lay in the other bed.
"Say hello to the new pastor, Doot,"
and then in a whisper
"He never talked much.
It's been hard on him
since they took his leg.
Diabetes, you know. Just like me.
People think it must
be hard for me, stuck in this bed,
but I have memories,
so many, such good ones.
I remember . . ."

And off we would go,
to people and places
I'd never seen or gone.
She was a cheerful guide,
taking my hand and leading me
back through the hallways of her life
where we paused
to peer in rooms
and smile or laugh
at ironies and pomposities.
There were, of course, sad tales too.
We honored them with silence.

I wish I had told her
how she blessed me.

LEAVE TAKING

Even then, at the unseasoned age
of seven, he thought it odd
his father had named the fox
terrier Lassie. He thought only
collies should be called Lassie.

She's smart as a whip his father
said. He had taught her to roll
over, play dead and jump through
his arms formed into a circle.

They moved that summer and
had to sell some things because
the new house was smaller.
He went with his father to
the auction barn with a truck load
of stuff his father said they
didn't really need anyway.

Why are we taking Lassie
he said but his father didn't
answer. They left her with
the old sofa and some chairs.
He didn't cry because his
father said you're too
old for that.

BETHSAIDA

"Jesus said to him . . . ‘Do you want to be made well?'"

                             -- John 5:6

When he approached, I supposed
he was just another up-country
rube, come to the big city to gawk,
then go back home and tell them
all how wonderful and terrible
the trip had been . . . "You wouldn't
believe the poor beggars I saw spread
out around a pool of water they actually
believed could heal them" . . . so when
he asked his question I had to
choke back the bitter laugh rising
in my throat. What did he think --
that I came here day after day
because I enjoyed the view?

It was his look that changed everything.
It was . . . how shall I put it? . . .
intense. Yes, but more than that
. . . compelling. It compelled me
to say how and why I was the way
I was, still cramped down with
sickness and self-loathing.
I made my usual excuse and saw
at once he knew the truth
of it . . . that I feared more
than anything to do what
he ordered me to do . . . get up
and walk . . . stand up and make
my way into life.

I got up. I walked.

SEED PACKET

The picture on the front
tells you what you will get if you
drop the contents in the soil,
water and weed when necessary,
then wait. You will, in time,
have a cucumber just like
the picture on the front.

When you are a parent
you go about it much the same.
You plant, you feed, you cultivate.
It's harder though. There's more
at stake. For everyone. And there
are no pictures on the front.