It would be heavenly if she could see
her children on the front yard again,
glance at them through the window
above the sink as she fills the house
with the sweet smells of her baking;
if, when she called them for dinner
they came running, knowing what was
waiting in the oven after vegetables.
If only she again could use lard in her crusts,
ample sugar in her fillings. If only
she didn’t have to worry about her health,
or theirs. She lies on the kitchen floor, staring
at the dark spot on the ceiling above the oven,
trying to ignore the pain slicing through her side.
How long ago was it? That day smoke filled
the kitchen? That day her children told her
to quit baking? That day everything changed?
She hears a strange voice calling her name,
asking if she is alright. Commotion in her entry.
Closing her eyes, she smells the fragrance
of a freshly baked pie, sees angels bounding
in her direction, notices God reaching toward her,
a dessert plate between thumb and forefinger,
and hopes she remembered to add enough sugar.
In gratitude to those who use their talents, while they can, to bring joy to others.
And speaking of angels, take a peek at this 1995 Humanitarian Award performance featuring angelic voices including that of my cousin, one of the lead singers whose voice is the first you will hear in the song.
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The Ideal Gift
Tiny Treasures, a collection of wildflower photographs and poetic prose, available by clicking on the Purchase Products button below.
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