“Deb—”

Deb

I want to be like you—

 believing in good

 from a suffering world

I want to be like you—

 crafting kindness

 with prayers and smiles

I want to be like you—

 listening to old hurts

 with an understanding heart

I want to be like you—

 fostering true generosity

 with that single perfect gift

I want to be like you—

 lessening sorrows

 with just the right words

I want to be like you—

 celebrating life’s milestones

 with thought and care

I want to be like you—

 dancing with rapture

 under the full moon

                     

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

Matt, Debbie's husband, trained at Randolf Air Force Base twenty-five years ago. He called one evening to say that his wife had flown down to join him for a few weeks, but she was lonely in the little apartment. Could I invite her out for lunch and shopping? Little did we know that phone call would lead to many shopping trips or thirteen page letters between San Antonio and Atlanta (sometimes arriving in two envelopes because of the pictures sent,too). We've shifted to frequent emails which I save in a folder DEB.