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MY SHAWL
I sit and knit a shawl to warm my soul
When winds begin to howl and darkness falls,
To weave, to tie, to join and be made whole -
My life's work bundled here within these walls.
As back and forth my fingers ply their trade
And prayers are woven into cloth with dreams
My soul is not confined, nor thoughts constrained
But freed to fly by hands content with seams.
This seeming smallness of my daily world,
The tiny stitches of a humble life,
Will add up to my glory by God's grace
When at time's end my knitting is unfurled
And all my works as woman, mother, wife
Have made a home for me before His face.
| Charlotte
lives in Lawrence, Kansas homeschooling the five of her eight children
still at home. Her conversion story appeared in Envoy, and Canticle
carries her features, poetry and regular humor column. She helps
other writers with extensive copy editing, writes frequent pro-life
letters to editors, gives writing workshops and homeschooling talks,
and has been a guest lecturer in a University of Kansas C.S. Lewis
Studies class. She and the family are on their way to Germany for
her husband Russ' spring semester sabbatical during which they will
live in a Focolare, "City of Mary," and learn more about building Catholic community. |
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COMMUNION
My friend, thou art
unutterably dear
to me.
My heart is yet
delighting in your face
as we
take leave of our
sweet fellowship and fun,
though yet
we might have stayed
and lingered longer still.
Insteadmy soul on wings
of gratitude for you
has met
the One in Whom
our friendship has been forged.
Oh wait!
My soul set free
now rushing out beyond
the walls
of her defense,
as from within your eyes
He calls -
a flame of praise
in base community
takes hold
and careless burns -
Our love by alchemy
transformed
utterly in
the holocaust of Love
to gold.
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