The Doing Good blog follows area charities and social service agencies.
About Amy Umble: Amy Umble writes about religion and social issues affecting the Fredericksburg community.
A Mother’s Tears
Today, a story ran about Claire Ann Stevenson, a Stafford mom who wrote a book of poetry while grieving her son’s death. Claire Ann will sign copies of her book this weekend at Borders–Dec. 12, 2-4 p.m. at the store in Central Park.You can also read some of her poetry on her blog. Here is a sample of what you’ll find:
Lord, give me the strength to draw upon,
I cannot do this by myself,
Surround me with heavenly help.
Lead me to the well inside,
Knowing love is the guide,
Quench the thirst that leaves me dry,
Answer my soul’s cry.
Drinking deeply from the cup,
Refresh my soul and fill it up,
And with the sacred water of life,
Remove all torment and earthly strife.
Family Christmas Tree
There are many special ornaments to see,
Upon our beautiful Christmas tree,
Bought with love from far and near,
They tell our story from year to year.
Our first Christmas together was 1980,
The year that we were married,
We became proud parents in 1982,
When our lovely daughter joined us two.
Three years later our son was born,
On a March Korean morn,
In the Army while stationed overseas,
Was where our son joined us three.
Major milestones in our life,
Once we became husband and wife,
With ornaments to mark these occasions,
In happiness and celebration.
A red and gold angel is on top of the tree,
Gazing out in serenity,
A celestial guardian of all we hold dear,
As we decorate the tree each year.
There are angels and stars,
Saxophones and guitars,
Musical instruments our children played,
On the branches all arrayed.
Old fashioned Santas and Sheltie ornaments too,
Bells and birds to name a few,
Soldiers and trains, snowmen and dolls,
With red and gold poinsettias surrounding them all.
A Christmas tree that tells a story,
Of love and family in all its glory,
Sadly, there is also pain,
For we will not see our son again.
Two years ago he suddenly died,
Leaving us to wonder why,
Memorial ornaments now also adorn our tree,
Keeping our son close in loving memory.
A tree of love, a tree of hope,
A tree of sadness and of ways to cope,
Within its branches a tale to tell,
Of a family who loved long and well.