Transcendental Sonnet #1160:
Christmas Passed for Ida Brown in 1869

a true tale from the childhood of my great-grandmother,
Ida Brown Eckart, 1864-1949

My great-grandmother wanted a book
She was very small and that was all
She asked for that Christmas so she took
From the size and the shape and the look
Of the package that her dream came true

Her mother with odd expression said
"Here little Ida this is for you"
Ida ripped it open hungrily
She could not believe what was inside
Hope fell as hard as high it had soared

And the lights in her blue eyes went dead
It was just an old and dirty board
And she wondered till the day she died
"How could my mother do this to me?"



+Steven Curtis Lance

Sacred to the memory of Grandma Eckart,
"Scientia est potentia."

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