Last weekend Devin and I went to visit some of his family in Philadelphia. Have I mentioned that Devin’s family happens to be made up of the most thoughtful people in the contiguous 48? Every time I move into a new house or apartment, the first thing I get in the mail is a housewarming gift from Devin’s mom! (When I moved into my first New York apartment, I was scared about having too much stuff, so she sent me a care package specifically designed for living in small spaces–three cookies and a pair of scissors). In Philadelphia, Devin’s aunt and uncle always go out of their way to shuttle us around their fair city and cook five-star vegetarian meals, which we all eat together in their candlelit dining room. They are the best, best hosts.
Like in my family, it seems that everyone learned all they know from their matriarch, Grandma Pat. When Devin and I arrived last Friday, she had old photos waiting for me because she knows I love vintage dresses and hats. And she had a birthday gift wrapped and ready for me to open, a full two weeks before my actual birthday! With the present, she included three beautiful vintage handkerchiefs and a poem that is now one of my favorites. She copied it down years ago and isn’t sure who the original author was. I tried to find out and think it might be a womyn named Grace Haines, but I’m not positive. If I learn more about its source and history, I’ll update the post; but for now, here it is. Thanks again, Grandma Pat.
Oh, it’s just the little homely things,
The unobstrusive, friendly things,
The “won’t-you-let-me-help-you” things,
That make our pathway light.
And it’s just the jolly, joking things,
The “never-mind-the-trouble” things,
The “laugh-with-me-it’s-funny” things,
That make the world seem bright.
For all the countless famous things,
The wondrous record-breaking things,
Those “never-can-be-equalled” things,
That all the papers cite
Are not the little human things,
The “every-day-encountered” things,
The “just-because-I-love-you” things,
That make us happy quite.
So here’s to all the little things,
The “done-and-then-forgotten” things,
Those “oh-it’s-simply-nothing” things,
That make life worth the fight.