Today's lovely poem and post are brought to you by Gano, also known as Mary Sanderford, Amelia's great-grandmother.
This poem spoke to me, especially the first two lines, after I had the opportunity to visit my childhood friend, now in a nursing home.
I had not seen her in probably twenty-five years--what fun we had talking of our childhood experiences, things none of my present friends would even know about.
There seem to be people and friends for all seasons of our lives--and I thank God for that.
A Friend
by Oliver Wendell Holmes
There is no friend like an old friend
Who has shared our morning days,
No greeting like his welcome,
No homage like his praise.
Fame is the scentless flower
With gaudy crowns of gold,
Bur friendship is the breathing rose
With sweets in every fold.
1 comment:
Oh -- this makes me think of you, friend. Funny how we actually have very few shared memories given our years as friends (remember how you read about on the blog...), though the feelings expressed still hold true.
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