To Lisa, An After-Taste of Sweetness

“ ‘My mouth tastes good’ ”, his grandma said,
“I clear recall ’fore she was dead,
‘Now we have talked’ – so clear to me
Warm hazel eyes – sweet memory.”

I feel that way – (low grief for them –
It's twenty months since hard-fought end
Brought to a close that stalwart life –
We'd just been told – tears filled our night).

I'd just turned five when you arrived;
The Winter War you'd all survived;
My dad brought food when you would meet
For language class – ‘An apple’ – ‘Eat!’

One boy, one girl – "Third Culture Kids",
Back at your start, there in our midst;
We'd been as well – for seven years –
Two girls, one boy – and two with tears.

That was the spring it all began,
Its impact felt still as a man;
For you as well – such ricochets
Displacement of one's family makes.

But taking part was good for me –
Within your program I could see
Two TCK's in Echoland –
Showed it so all could understand.

Like us, your land of lakes and trees,
With rugged rocks and soothing breeze,
Found echoes in Laurentian shield –
More than this barren prairie field.

I took them through your service book;
Showed them a way which they could look
And comprehend your Echoland,
So in their lives they'd understand.

I showed the clips from liturgy;
“Finlandia” as gift; the creed;
Then blessing part from Sabbath eve;
How some defied unjust decree.

And so I laid a groundwork firm;
Some day, somehow, the rest they'll learn –
(Once we've come home to Echoland
The power of God we understand.

Until that time, we tumble on,
Successful yes, but something's wrong –
Like RTM's not set up right –
No power flows – so dark the night).

But hey! It's all been caught on tape –
Some day they might revisit make
And hear my words ’bout Echoland,
"Come home, then Father understand".

Each culture has its questions, stress,
Unique to it – some parts a mess;
True too for private Echoland –
The truth can flow when there we stand.

I don't know much about your kids,
Or kids of kids, there in your midst;
I hunch some disconnect exists –
God’s multi-plays few can resist.

My "this or that" so tiny was,
But tough for me at first because
I could not see "The Creed" – it's part –
But when I did, I got my start –

It spoke of Europe's early days;
A peon it, a burst of praise
Expressing life in Europe's stream,
When salt, and light, and leaven's seen.

That showed a way to freedom give
To those who in their doubt still live,
So they could walk on terra firm,
And from those words of grandma learn.

I think it worked – connection's made
(Folks don't hide much) – foundation's laid;
The RTM's been turned around –
Turn on the lights, now power's found.

Like grandson said, taste lingers on
Now we've conversed and crowd has gone;
May God have room to work ahead
With ‘this and that’ in what was said.

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