Letter from Hettie | № 5

See the other letters from Hettie here: No. 1, No. 2, No. 3, No. 4

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Dearest, Darling Caroline,

Please forgive me for not writing sooner, but we have had a very harrowing time. We were exploring the ruins of an old castle, when Uncle Jasper fell through some old brickwork and broke his collarbone and left shoulder. Oh, it was horrible Caroline! We thought he was dead, it was that serious. A very nice family took us in and has helped nurse him back to health. He had a very high fever on Nov. 1 and 2, and we did nothing but pray and pray.

 It seemed that the presence of Death itself was in the room, but the fever broke during the night of the 2nd. Thank the Lord! Uncle is still in a lot of pain, but he is being a real trooper and tells us to go see the sights and not worry about him. It is so beautiful and green here, and the family has a very kind son who has offered to escort us to the local attractions, but I feel tremendously, quietly leaving my dear uncle’s side!

So we shall be here in Ireland till Uncle Jasper is not in so much pain, and then we will miss seeing Scotland, but will flee to sunny Italy and Greece, and perhaps the South of France, so Uncle can be sure to be warm while fully recovering.

It will be strange to celebrate Thanksgiving in a country where it is unheard of, but we shall indeed be thankful just to be together and to have been spared what could have been an awful occurrence.  Much love and blessings to you and your little brood this Thanksgiving, I hope you are starting to feel a little better now.

Love,

Cousin Hettie

Liberty’s Tears

Liberty’s Tears

I saw fair Lady Liberty a-bowing of her head.

As silent tears fell to the ground, I listened while she said,

“I fear my life is fading for I feel so very frail.

My cheeks, which once bloomed pink with hope,

Now sullied are, and pale.

Men have trampled down poor Virtue, and Vice reigns in her stead.

And Justice, weak from her long fight, ere long shall too be dead.

“Weep not, Fair Lady!” I cried out, “And bow thy head no more!

For still God-fearing men there be upon this hallowed shore.”

“God-fearing men!  Where have you been, when you were needed so?”

The lady’s vehement retort struck me a mighty blow.

“Where were you when the vilest men abused my sacred name

To give themselves a “right” to kill their own sweet unborn kin?

Why did you let them take our Lord from children’s daily fare

That they might rise up in the world with spirits stripped and bare?

Oh, where have you been, blind Godly men?” and once more she did weep.

Now weeping, too, I answered her, “Lady, we’ve been asleep.

And blind indeed we have been too, to Evil’s ugly face.

We looked the other way while war was waged upon our race.”

— Marqueta Graham

POEM COPYRIGHT ©2016 BY MARQUETA GRAHAM. DO NOT COPY.