Monday Love: This Poem

There she comes down the road

I wonder what she thinks of me

As slowly I move toward her

What will she think of me? 

Will I see a spring in her step, 

A gleeful gleam in her eyes; 

Will she sing and laugh as though

Behind her a happy life lies?

Will her body be straight and strong, 

Her face have a healthy glow; 

Will she be loving, kind and friendly, 

Can her conversation easily flow?

Will she remember the fun she’s had

Meetings, camptrips and dances? 

Will she have had a normal life 

With friends, relatives, romances?

Will she thank me for what I’ve done

In making her honest and true; 

For keeping up her spirits 

Until each task was through?

Will she always be surrounded 

With friends made in the past; 

But along with those, can she make more

That kind that will always last?

Will her ideals be on a pedestal 

High above the ordinary kind; 

Will her ambitions be headed right 

And her future correctly outlined? 

Will she be tactful, courteous, polite; 

Have the manners that she should?

Will she be serious, cheerful and active, 

Having been helpful whenever she could?

Will her talents be well developed 

From them, all flaws sifted;

Will her eyes be turned to heaven and God 

And her heart be upward lifted?

I wonder what she thinks of me, 

of how I’ve traveled life’s way. 

Will she be pleased when I see her 

What will she have to say?

There she comes down the road, 

What she’s like someday I’ll see. 

It’ll be quite long before I meet her

For you see that girl is me. 

-Estelle Anderson (Sherman), my grandmother. Painting of her by Lucy, my mom.