My Only Gems

Christine gave me this poem in a package of goodies before Graham was born. Sometimes, after a long day of cleaning up messes, being inside the same four walls, and wearing spit up and baby food on my jeans, I go in a look at my precious boys sleeping. Then, I am reminded of why I stay at home with my children and why I am so thankful for that privledge.

The Girl I Used to Be

She came tonight as I sat alone,
The girl I used to be.
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye
And questioned reproachfully:
Have you forgotten the many plans
And hopes I had for you?
The great career, the splendid fame,
All the wonderful things to do?
Where is the mansion of stately height
With all of its gardens rare?
The silken robes that I dreamed for you
And the jewels in your hair?

And as she spoke, I was very sad
For I wanted her pleased with me.
This slender girl from the shadowy past,
The girl I used to be.

So gently rising, I took her hand,
And guided her up the stair
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay
Innocent, sweet, and fair.
And I told her that these are my only gems,
And precious they are to me;
That silken robe is my motherhood
Of costly simplicity.
And my mansion of stately height is love,
And the only career I know,
Is serving each day in the sheltered walls
For the dear ones who come and go.

And as I spoke to my shadowy guest,
She smiled through her tears at me.
And I saw the woman that I am now
Pleased the girl that I used to be.