More Memories of Long Ago!

Pearl Harris

After 96 years I am having a health problem. After all, things do wear out. I am not able to jump up and do the things I’ve always done, so I sit and recall memories of long ago, I know what has occurred in the past, but we don’t know the future. As I sit here this afternoon looking out in my backyard, I see the leaves slowly floating down. I recalled a little poem that I had memorized as a child. It goes like this:

“Come little leaves said the wind one day,
Come over the hills with me and play,
Put on your coats of red and gold,
Summer is gone and the days grow cold”

John Greenleaf Whittier                                                                                                                                      I can’t recall who wrote it, but I wish I cold write poetry. I don’t like to read long novels,  but I love poetry. I recall in “Snow Bound” by John Greenleaf Whittier there was a line describing the snowfall. It read that the “clothesline posts looked like tall and sheeted ghosts”. As you might have suspected if you’ve read the last of my articles that I love fall weather – but I hope we don’t see any “tall and sheeted ghosts.” But the weather is about the only thing left that man cannot control. So whatever our Lord sends us – let us remember to thank God for all our blessings this Holiday Season.

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

 

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One thought on “More Memories of Long Ago!

  1. Come Little Leaves
    George Cooper (1838–1927)

    “Come, little leaves,”
    Said the wind one day,
    “Come over the meadows
    With me, and play;
    Put on your dresses
    Of red and gold;
    Summer is gone,
    And the days grow cold.”

    Soon as the leaves
    Heard the wind’s loud call,
    Down they came fluttering,
    One and all;
    Over the meadows
    They danced and flew,
    Singing the soft
    Little songs they knew.

    Dancing and flying
    The little leaves went;
    Winter had called them
    And they were content-
    Soon fast asleep
    In their earthy beds,
    The snow laid a soft mantle
    Over their heads.

    Like

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