This past weekend was my grandmother’s 80th birthday. Needless to say, there was a big shindig at her house to celebrate. My mom called me the night before and asked if I could “write a poem or something to read for Grandma at the party tomorrow”. Um, OK.
So, I came up with kind of a silly little poem. Some of my family members asked if I could type it up, so here it is, my impromptu ode to my grandmother:
There was an old lady who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do…
Wait, that was a different lady. Let me start again.
There was a young lady who lived in a pink house, and a blue house and a green house and a brown house, too.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.
Those children would grown and finally leave through the front door
Just to be replaced by two or three or four, maybe more.
Over the years, she cared for so many:
Nieces, nephews, in-laws and grandchildren aplenty.
Her home came to be known all across the land
As a place where wonderful food could be had.
“Beerocks, veninakas, cinnamon rolls and bread!
Cookies, cobblers and more!” everyone said.
Everything fresh and hot, made from scratch.
Laverne at the last cookie? Time to whip up a batch!
“How does she do it?” people asked with such awe.
“Her house is so clean! There’s no dirt at all!”
But bigger than that, more important by far,
Is the part of her life that makes her a star.
This lady serves Jesus like no one I’ve known.
She serves him by serving others; sometimes all alone.
She prays for her family and friends through their trails
Even while through her own tears she smiles.
So now she’s turned 80 and still going strong.
(I think she still be here when MY grandchildren come along.)
There’s still lots to do before her time is done.
Her family still needs her, each and every one.
She taught us that family means people who care.
She holds us all together with her love and food and prayer.
I love you, Grandma. Happy Birthday!