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It did not take much time at all
For you to make this friendly call
To tell me just how much you care.
You missed when I was not there
At church, and you expected me.
You thought that you my face might see.
You worried when I did not show.
I think that you may never know,
Although it seems a gesture small,
The good you did with just a call.

by Gwennon,
written circa 1992

I wrote this for my Oregonian friend, D.B, who was a great encouragement to me, and often drove me to church when my husband was at work and couldn’t take me. When I showed this poem to our preacher, he published it the next week in our church bulletin.

At the time, there was a very gifted poet named Art, who circulated his poems often at church, and another very good poet named Alice. For several years, we formed a small poetry circle at church, comparing notes and learning from each other. Back then, a few people laughingly called me “Art’s Competition”. But the truth is that I was never the word-master that either Art or Alice were.

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