Ma'am

Ma’am 

I remember the first time I met her. 
At the orphanage. 
I was a lifer 
who wants to adopt fourteen year old boys? 
Apparently no one. 
She was so beautiful 
and had the most angelic face. 
Oh! her smile 
it was like bright sunshine. 

Unsure of how to address a Nun 
I always called her Ma’am. 
She did not seem to mind. 
I think that was when I realized 
she was the only friend I had. 

What I did not know was 
I was falling in love with her. 
I have never seen as much kindness 
before or since. 
It flowed from her. 

She stopped me running away again, 
and taught me how to read books, 
great books by important authors. 
To learn poetry 
and talk about its meaning. 

At this point I knew I loved her. 
That confusing rite of passage 
between boyhood and manhood. 
She took me to the mission 
where the homeless lived 
and we served in the free kitchen. 

I would follow her anywhere 
to be by her side. 
She was relocated 
after a couple of years 
to a mission in Africa. 

I was desolate 
Begging to go with her 
I even  asked her to marry me. 
She smiled and said 
if she was free 
she would marry me in a heartbeat. 
But explained gently to my young heart. 
that she was already married to her faith. 
Showing me her gold ring. 

She died a few years later 
her letters stopped coming. 
It was a bout of malaria. 
Now when I feel alone or sad. 
I open an old shoe box 
and read her stacks of letters 
one by one. 
Always in the order 
that she sent them to me. 
And as usual 
I feel warm and safe  again. - 

 

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