Since I started blogging 2 years ago, I've learned some very interesting things. I've learned that in one click of the mouse, you can lose an entire year of pictures...the Picasa Boo Boo. I've learned that even if I don't have a single comment, I got something from just writing my post. Finally, I've learned just how small this big old World is. I've met some amazing people in the last two years and I've Googled lots of information that has improved my life. Last May when I posted the following poem, I had no idea who the author was... but it spoke loud and clear to me. The person who penned it knew a little something about tough times and doing without. Yesterday's email from the great granddaughter of Adeline J. Haws, the author of this wonderful poem was so exciting! Adeline's words, written in 1929, couldn't be more current. The message is still important for us to hear. Read and soak up these words of wisdom...then go visit Rebecca's wonderful blog A Decision to Dance where she shares more of her Great-Grandmother's poetry! Her first post is the amazing story of how her Great Grandmother made it to America and the losses she faced along the way that made her so very strong.
The Old Black Hen
(This poem was written in 1929 at the start of the depression)
The little red rooster scratched his head, "Gosh, but things are tough!
Worms are getting scarcer and I cannot find enough.
What's become of all those fat ones is a mystery to me---
There were thousands through the rainy spell, but now where can they be?"
The old black hen who heard him, didn't grumble or complain.
She had gone through lots of dry spells; she had lived thru floods of rain;
So she flew up on the grindstone, and she gave her claws a whet
As she said, "I've never seen the time there were no worms to get."
She picked a new and undug spot; the earth was hard and firm.
The little rooster jeered, "New ground! That's no place for a worm."
The old black hen just spread her feet; she dug both fast and free.
"I must go to the worms," She said, "the worms won't come to me."
The rooster vainly spent his day,thru habit, by the ways
Where fat round worms had passed in squads, back in the rainy days.
When night-fall found him supperless, he growled in accents rough,
I'm hungry as a fowl can be. Conditions sure are tough."
He turned then to the old black hen and said, "It's worse with you,
For you're not only hungry, but you must be tired too.
I rested while I watched for worms, so I feel fairly pert;
But how are you--without worms too,--and after all that work?"
The old black hen hopped to her perch and closed her eyes in sleep,
And murmured in a drowsy tone, "Young man hear this and weep;
I'm full of worms and happy, for I've dined both long and well.
The worms are there, as always,-but I had to dig like hell."
Adeline J. Haws