Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

My Psalm of Thanksgiving

[I wrote this after I had an infected kidney stone episode on 2/2/2023. An infected kidney could lead to sepsis. Was in hospital two nights. Doctor put a stent in and drained the infection. 2/14/2023 — Kidney stone and stent removed. Much better now!]

I praise you, O Lord,
For you have rescued me from the path to death.
Once, twice, and three times now,
And perhaps many more that I’m not aware of.

I thank You for those who are healers —
Doctors, nurses, nurse aides, and their helpers.
Please guide them in their work
And give them Your wisdom.

Now, Lord, help me learn from this.
May I take the best care of my body,
The temple of Your Holy Spirit.

May I use my good health
To heal others with the gifts You’ve given me —
Mostly encouragement, I think!

[I also pray to have the gift
To praise You
Right in the midst of any hardship,
For You have a plan for me.]

May Your name be praised
Over all the earth!

The Double J

[I didn’t intend this as a “country music” type poem,
but it ends up sounding like that. This is a real place
where I love to go with my husband.]

Come on down to the Double J Cafe!
The people are friendly, and the grub is great.

The lady at the counter says “How do you do?”
“The special we have is made just for you.”

There’s a fire burnin’ on a wintry night,
Gas, not wood, but it still feels right.

No TVs blaring, no ads on a screen,
Just the radio playin’; a happy scene.

The food is delicious, even cheesecake.
The man in the cowboy hat had a slice to take.

They’re not open daily, just four days a week,
And if family’s sick, they have a bad streak.

Just feels like home, from long ago.
And they play the old songs, with 60s tempo.

It’s probably all just an innocent dream,
In cities, people murdered, while politicians scheme.

But I still think that heaven is a place where there’ll be
Good food, warmth, and laughter, and a grand happy scene. 

Reality

I’d love to play all of a day
And dance on sunlit lawns,
But somehow light begins to dawn,
Or shall I say, the sunset comes?

I’d love to sing the glorious songs
And soak in beauteous tones,
But then, alas, reality,
Tells me that duty calls.

I’d love to read a book all day
Or sit by warming fire,
But others call upon my help,
And some – their needs are dire.

The truth, it seems, or partly so,
Is dishes, toilets, mold, and floors,
The cooking, baking, and bed making.

And don’t forget the many tasks
That little ones and spouses ask.

But one can dream, and may it be
That both can be reality,
And even at one time.

Hard work and toil —
And bounteous joy.

Refugees

Last Saturday at our church, we had an event that was part of a series on Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. That particular night was about Goodness, specifically how even through difficult circumstances, there is a lot of good to be found. That night a family of five (most especially the mother) presented their story of fleeing Ukraine as refugees of the current war. I was intrigued to hear about their experience, especially since my parents were refugees from Hungary around 1946.

While the mom was speaking, I found myself on the verge of tears several times. Throughout the talk, she cited Bible verses that had given her encouragement. She talked about their decision to leave Ukraine, which included leaving her parents behind. It took them five days to reach the border, with hundreds or thousands of cars creeping along the roads. Many people along the way offered them food and clothing. Gas stations gave out a limited supply of fuel. When they did reach the border, others helped them with paperwork, etc., and they entered into Poland.

Soon after, they were offered beds and showers at a convent. It was their first safe place where they could rest and get cleaned up. That was another highlight of the goodness of others. In five more days, they were able to come to the United States. They received a lot of help, during the total of these ten days, from the Knights of Columbus, a Catholic organization, of which the father is a member. Eventually the mother’s parents also came to the United States, in an even shorter time frame.

After the talk, I approached the mother to thank her for coming, and mentioned that my parents had been Hungarian refugees. Then I started crying and had to quickly escape. After so many years, and the fact that my PARENTS, not me, were refugees, I didn’t understand why I was reacting so strongly, and perhaps I never will. I was amazed that after the Ukrainian family’s ordeal, the mother was able to stand in front of an audience and not break down.

I won’t go into it much here, but I thought of many reasons why my parents situation was a bit different and possibly more traumatic, but not necessarily. For one, it was a much longer process for them; they were refugees for perhaps five years, not ten days. Their travel to the United States was much longer; perhaps about two months by boat and train; no jets for them! But there could be other reasons: emotional, family background, financial, and other factors.

In the end, I’m very grateful that the United States accepted them and that I’m here today.

The God Who Loves You

Here was another life-changing book for me. I can’t find the exact quote, but the idea in the book that hit me like a ton of bricks was “God creates only out of love. That means He made me only out of love. Therefore, my reason for existence is love.” Something like that, anyway. I will edit this if I can find the exact quote.

This book is one of many that changed my life. There is a chapter in which Corrie is challenged to forgive a man who had been one of the Nazi prison guards in the concentration camp she had been in. At first, she is unable to shake his hand when he offers it, after a post-World-War- II lecture she gave on forgiveness. But after praying, she has the grace to put out her hand and shake his.

I remember realizing: If God can forgive a Nazi guard, He can forgive me — I don’t deserve it, but it’s not about what I deserve. It’s about God’s grace.

Halloween 2022


The eve of All Saints’ Day was magical, in a good way. For one, it had been raining, right up to about the 6 p.m. start of the trick-or-treating. [Ohio has townships, a subdivision of counties. The township suggests (or is it a law? I don’t know) that trick-or-treating should take place between 6 and 8 p.m.] I had been doubtful as to whether we should even bother giving out candy. Suddenly at about 5:50 p.m. or so, the rain stopped.

My husband helped by putting out a little firepit at the end of the driveway, which is a custom for many in our neighborhood. The homeowners sit by the firepit while giving out candy, and they may have a party themselves.

I wrote the following after it was all over.

———————————————————————————————————————-

It’s quiet now. The clowns and freaks, saints and sinners, ghosts and ghouls are gone. I stand in the driveway, on the darkened and empty street, wondering what it all means. The silence after all the childish shrieks. The candy bowls empty. How did I come to be in this crazy world?

We talked with neighbors whom we don’t often see. One came over on his own, and when we got short of candy, he gave us some of his own. I went over to another neighbor after we had run out of candy again, just to say hi. I found out that the husband is related to a political candidate. When these neighbors learned that we had run out of candy, they gave us some of theirs.

Sitting with my husband by a firepit, we ate pizza and drank seltzer water between candy giveaways. A citizen patrol car drove by twice. The sounds of laughter in the neighborhood were comforting.

Shortly before 8 p.m., our neighbor to the right yelled, “Have a good night; we’re calling it quits.” Somehow I got to asking him what he did for a living, and he explained. Here was another neighbor whom we hardly ever talk with.

So quiet and silent now. The voices are gone. The air is still. The weather is mild tonight. We are blessed to be alive.

Rejoice with me, for my cat was lost and now is found! (paraphrase — see Luke 15:6, 9, 24).

Last night our younger indoor cat (Pepper), a male, escaped during a thunderstorm. We’ve had him less than a year and he doesn’t know the neighborhood, which possibly has coyotes. I know that many cats do return, and sure enough, he was back in the morning, not even wet!

On the grand scale of what happens to people, this event was not a big deal, but nevertheless I was praying and asked others to pray, was somewhat anxious, and didn’t sleep much. It did make me consider many things, one of which is how God pursues us relentlessly when we are lost. He is an awesome God!

In Matthew 18:10-14, Jesus says, “Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven. What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.”

The morning after my night of poor sleep, I considered how I would lure Pepper back. Since we have another cat that I didn’t want to escape, I put her in a room and shut the door. I opened the back glass sliding doors about eight inches, then put some wet and dry cat food near the door. Soon he appeared at the door, after I had heard a bit of meowing, but he wouldn’t come in right away. I backed off to about 30 feet away, and after some more meowing, he rushed into the house towards me. I scooped him up and hugged him like a baby!

So my heart was full after a rotten night. This brought to mind another passage from the Bible, John 16:20-22 (No, I do not have these passages memorized; I cut and paste them from websites.): “Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. So you have pain now; but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

It’s hard to believe in joy while we’re going through sorrow, but when Pepper returned, I certainly experienced that the sorrow had been worth it! It hurts at times to love God or others, but we suffer because of the love that we have, and the love is worth it!

We Will Go Home

[Note: I have tried for YEARS to write a decent poem in iambic pentameter, with no success. Then this one just HAPPENED. There’s no telling how the muse will strike.]

We will go home, we will go home at last.
No crying then, and all our sorrows past.
All will be well, our wounds and traumas done —
The world so bright, like unto twenty suns.

And then we’ll know, yet couldn’t see it here,
That all our troubles, hardships, and our fears,
Were but a flash, a drop in ocean vast —
Were only tests and trials, meant not to last. 

And then we’ll see (but didn’t seem so then) —
The suff’ring woe of women and of men
Was worth it all — for what we were to gain,
Outshines, like sun, the candle of our pain.

God’s Dwelling

I saw the lofty clouds,
Like mountains piled high.
I wondered if the angels,
Or God, were dancing there.
And then the thunder rolled,
A wave of sound; God speaking there.

I saw the real mountains,
The jagged cliffs, with snow adrift,
Their fearsome heights created
By a holy God — And who can tell
If He does not there dwell?

But He’s not bound by earth or sky;
Perhaps He’s in a lullaby,
Or in a spouse’s kiss; He’s ne’er amiss.
To know His love is awe and bliss.

Tag Cloud