Watching Nana read her Bible…

Grandma BibleNana’s Bible

She rocked, never sat, her
hands only paused as she traced
her arthritic fingers over the
words of her Bible, her lips mouthing

the stories of faith – she
remembered Lot’s wife, cried
over Hagar’s pain, ached with Ruth’s
losses; when others disobeyed
it was as if Walter Cronkite
was reporting it on the CBS evening
news and it just happened today,
she winced and shook her head
whispering ‘Have they no shame?!’

as she closed her eyes to mull over God’s
mercy; she remembered her lost
sons, their letters from the War
read over and over again, tucked
into the back of her only book along
with a faded photo of her wedding day
and her Johnny, ‘He was a good man,’

she would say – ‘no saint,
but a good to us’ as her
thumb washed over his shoulders
and face – this photo and a dark
blue tie of his hanging in her closet
are all she has left of her good man;
and she rocked, never sat, because

idleness is her generation’s deadly
sin, responsibility its chief
virtue, and she rocked with her
head back and eyes closed, mouthing
the words, ‘Yea, though I walk
through the valley… yea….’

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