Posted by: Lisa | July 8, 2012

Inheritance

Emma, born on Thanksgiving Day,
fair-skinned daughter of immigrants –
poor but faithful, she kneels to pray.

Our servant girl from age sixteen,
strong hands scour, chop and carry;
her dedication pure – even when unseen.

Gilded lamps, jeweled gowns, foreign to her,
but a loving, child-like heart – joined
to presence of Jesus, she prefers.

She smiles and nods while we open
Christmas presents, eat birthday cake –
knowing her happiness dwells within.

With little hope for earthly fame –
she waits for rebirth in heaven,
her true inheritance to claim.

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Responses

  1. Very lovely, as are all of your poems.

    • Thank you very much!


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