Updated: Sep 6, 2019
Her Autumn Cloak
In a plain corner store on a quiet street worked a girl less concerned with herself. Though the days at the counter were hard on her feet, she still sometimes had trouble with wealth.
Her miniature mouth held warmhearted smiles and her eyes were the kindest of all. She only wore clothes in the simplest styles with a patched woolen cloak in the fall.
Whenever the maples turned fiery red it marked the best time of her year. She would go to the old wooden chest by her bed where her small tattered cloak would appear.
Though the fleece lining had slowly worn thin and the seams could now use a good sew, she would tenderly fasten it under her chin and then off to her shop she would go.
The patrons had always begged her to know how she maintained such effortless ways. As sure as that cloak coming out for the snow she would sigh, "Be grateful for each of your days."
- September 17, 2014. -