Where I'm From Poetry Contest Honorable Mention

A Remnant of my Parents

by Emma Heim

I heard my dad doesn't remember my birth
So stressed from working hard
Working for a wife bringing life to the earth
Born from hands that were scarred

I always felt my mom was tired
Her heart too large; our house too small
Saving all the kids we acquired
Raised by a heart that loved them all

I watched my dad lead the sheep
Helping them find everlasting hope
Slaving for people in too deep

Instructed on sin as a slippery slope

I smelled my mom’s warm meals

fresh bread and warm crockpots
Cooking for eight people's needs

Taught that a little can be lot

I grew up wanting to be my mom

She always knew what to do

Loving, collected, and calm

Forever wanting to be that too

They were born of parents too

From worn hands and battered hearts

We always were the lucky few
Generations of wisdom to impart

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