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Enter Poem or Quote (Required) The seventh day of week and month in seventh month of the year, number seven dominated when I decided to appear. I was seventh in my family, five brothers, Mother and Dad, also the seventh granddaughter each of my grandmas had. When later, two more children came, I then was one of seven; unless you count the baby who went right straight to Heaven. My seventh nephew came along, you guessed it, on my birthday. Seventh day of seventh month and seventh in his family. He was one of seven children raised in his family and then he became a Professor of Economics and a US Congressman. In nineteen forty one I wed in the seventh month of the same year that a seventh of December strike filled our young hearts with fear. We'd been married twenty-one years, a multiple of seven, when God decided to take home loved husband He had given. He died the 4th of seventh month; was buried on seventh day, the anniversary of my birth. It was a sad birthday. He didn't live to see the seven grandchildren who are mine. He'd be amused to know how sevens are still keeping me in line. My niece's seventh grandchild came in two thousand and one; born on my birthday, seven-seven. Number seven is not done. I've had my share of ups and downs, perhaps my seven's power alternates from good to bad and changes every hour. I'm tryin to keep track of all the sevens that I own. Perhaps I'll die on one, if so please mark it on my stone. Magical Mystical Numbers contest sponsored by Deborah Guzzi 5th place
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