My granddaddy had a little sister named Anna Lee. The story I've always heard is that she was playing in the yard one Sunday afternoon and fell on a tree stump. She had an infection set up in the wound and passed away that Thursday. I've always had an odd, sort of sentimental feeling about this great aunt of mine whom I never met. I've often wondered what sort of little girl she was, whether or not she was book smart or was the type of girl who wouldn't let a little boy mess with her. She was born in 1920 and died in 1927. She was just a little girl.
A cousin of mine found a poem that was written by her mother, who was Anna Lee's older sister. The poem was written by my great aunt Ruth after the death of her little sister. The poem was written on March 10, 1927. It's called "The Little Arm Chair". Yet another glimpse into her short life.
The Little Arm Chair
My eyes were caught to an object over there
In the corner of the room sat a little arm chair.
My heart grew heavy it was hard to bare (sic)
As I thought of the little maiden who once sat there.
Ten days of March had gone
When the death angel come (sic) to our home
She won't need the arm chair anymore
For she's gone to be an angel on the other shore.
There is a grave over yonder
But she's not there
I wonder if she sees us
By her little arm chair.
There is a vacancy in our home
Since little sister has gone
But nothing seems so bare
As the little arm chair over there.
It seem (sic) that I can see her
With the angel on heavenly stair
As I sit here so lonely
By her little arm chair.
By my great aunt Ruth 1927
Continue to rest peacefully on that lush green hillside, sweet Anna Lee. I'll see you for sure one of these days.
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That is beautiful. It gave me little goosebumps to read the poem.
ReplyDeleteMy dad had a sister who died when she was 9. Her name was Juanita. I often think of her too, and wonder what kind of girl she was, what kind of woman she would have been.