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The Cornerstone


We mailed about a hundred Christmas Cards by the old method this week.  There may come a year when cost and time conspire to end that habit.  However, while postings have been extremely sparse this year, this posting is in keeping with the tradition started a couple of years ago.  It is one story - one reflection - this season brings forward.  Merry Christmas and good wishes to all who may happen by this blog!



        the cornerstone

About a year ago, standing atop the muddy
Walls, I tried to visualize the foundation.  
We would build a new house here.  We’d
Build it to last.  We hope it sees a century of
Christmases for us and those who come after.

Looking down, ten feet deep in the mucky wall
An oblong object, not root nor rock, jutted out.
Sliding into the hole, caking mud on my jeans, 
I slogged to the corner and knelt to touch it.
An iron stake, rusty and scaly, with a skewed
Oval head, had been dislodged by the last
Pass of the backhoe bucket cleaning the hole.  
The gummy slick soil, numbingly cold to touch,
Gave up its treasure with some finger digging.
A neatly stacked set of old railroad spikes placed
In two rows and three tiers lay in restful repose.
Picking one up I could see a working man.
With beefy, bruised hands and gnarly black skin,
His arms strong as pistons, a smile and a tune,
He’d worked his Gandy bar prying the rails,
And driven the spikes deep - safe for the train.
A century or more has lapsed since his hands
Made ready for another day by stacking his spikes.
From what we have learned of the laws of his time,
This meticulous man could perform his work here
But would not be allowed to have his home here. 
Returning the spike to his carefully placed pile,
I knew, with no doubt, that his spikes should stay
Undisturbed where he put them so that they
Could share their space with a new cornerstone.

Upon that cornerstone would be built a home
Where we, each year would stop and remember
The care taken in a craftsman’s creation and
Resolve to rebuild on Christmas’ cornerstone.

--td

Comments

  1. I was so happy to see that the Cigar Box was back that I forgot how often I would find tears when reading it. You did it again. Thank you for sharing this.

    ReplyDelete

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