TRUCKIN TO TEXAS
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SHABBAT SHALOMThe mother looked at her children and thought
"My how they've grown They'll soon be off and out the door with families of their own" The Friday sun began to set and the mother did recall The memories of Friday nights when she was very small The glimmer of the candles Her mother's silent prayer The challah at the table The family gathered there The look her father gave them as he poured each glass of wine That linked the generations in a way you can't define She blinked away the memories of the way it used to be and thought "now days are different that's the way it seems to me The kids were getting ready Their evening plans were made But the sounds and smells of days gone by Somehow just wouldn't fade She reached up to the cabnet way behind the kitchen door Found the tarnished candleabbra she had put away to store She opened the silver polish and sat down with a sigh As she glanced at her father's photo She could swear he winked his eye...... August, 1994 |