The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

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from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

To An Old House I Saw On Easter Morning, 1984

By Irene Ussery © 1991

Issue: July, 1991

An Old House I Saw On Easter Morning, 1984.An Old House I Saw On Easter Morning, 1984.I see you there and you seemingly are only standing because of the vines clinging to you.

I wonder if you aren't like a very old person who longs to breathe his last and back to dust return," but is being kept alive by "vines" of tubes and wires, and machines that cling to him, as the vines are clinging to you.

Long years have passed since you were proud, and strong, and standing tall!

What tales you could share with me of families who lived and loved inside your walls and knew all the joys and sorrows that one's lifetime usually holds.

Of babies sweet and fair, with perhaps a wisp of silken hair, and rosy cheeks and dimpled knees.

Of lads and lassies maturing there, finding their world too small and going out from your sheltering safety as new horizons beckoned.

Life and death - plenty and want - storm and calm as time moved on.

Farewell old house. Rest in peace. Your job is finished, your story told. It's your turn now to return to dust. But go knowing that tomorrow life will go on for God is still in his heaven and in control.