mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- on a hill, far away This is what I have to keep me warm on cold nights: My Grandmother's soft arm is around my shoulder. Her hair is in curlers and she is wearing a brightly colored polyester nightgown. She is reading to me from my favorite book, an anthology of fairy tales and fables and nursery rhymes. She reads in the voice of the fox who cannot reach the grapes, the princess who felt a pea through a hundred feather beds, Jack the Giant Killer, and the prince's kindly attendant in Snow White. When her eyes get tired, she shuts out the lights and we lay down. She sings me to sleep, bible songs she learned when she was little, like me. My voice joins hers and we sing about the old rugged cross, the B-I-B-L-E, and a baby that slept in a manger the night he was born. I fall asleep to her gentle, sweet voice. I fall asleep hearing songs about God. 1:13 a.m. - 2004-08-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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