Looking For Nancy Emily

Unhooking the chain I opened the rusty gates to Olive Branch Cemetery Hallowed ground of yesteryear Peaceful as the name sounds. There is a place of comfort sweet Near to the heart of God A place where we our Savior meet Near to the heart of God Like a white butterfly fluttering from One headstone to another headstone where sweet clover blossoms rested their heads protecting the ancestors of long ago— Stopping by each one I gently touch and wonder Standing on rolling hills of countryside Six-foot tall or five-foot short giants of the soil English honest proud farmers tilling the land children by their side helping with French heritage mother who listened to the tears, cooked meals, washed clothes lesser than the men but carried on. Walking in time thinking, then Seeing it! I lifted up Nancy Emily’s initialed stone N E P lying on the ground young farm girl no state aid rocking her baby boy For when my heart is troubled, filled with fear, Jesus whispers peace Young lad gladdening saddened family hearts. I wonder her pain kept a secret Until descendants began to unearth digging deeper than her simple grave Nancy Emily, rest well knowing your descendants are bright and fruitful healing the sick teaching children keeping the law at home and afar raising children to become. Whispering hope, O how welcome thy voice, Making my heart in its sorrows rejoice Oh! Family of long ago toiling planting reaping caring lying now on former fields with mottled stones announcing your place. N E P stands upright. Feeling like a mighty oak tree faithful and fulfilled, I leave fastening tight the rusty gates— past secured for future