I can see her in her bedroom, in my bedroom.
The magic of a small camera pointed at her bed sends an image to a screen in my bookcase that
Always tells the truth.
With knotted fingers she has painstakingly removed her flannel gown and donned a fresh blue housedress.
Snap by perilous snap.
She is ready for her day.
I join her,
gently easing her purple bedroom shoes over her swollen feet.
I comb wayward strands of white hair into submission and
hand her pink eyeglasses.
It is not until her slow trek into the den that I spot the tag of her duster at her neck.
A glance confirms that the inside seams are on the outside.
An error? A mistake?
It doesn't matter.
Because the victory is in her ableness.
to dress and
to meet the New Year with a smile.
May we, likewise, be given the grace to distinguish the insignificant from the significant
and
the wisdom to celebrate each victory, no matter how small, with joy.
Amen and Amen.
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