Texting with Sharon and Suzanne: A Life Savor

 This morning my daughter's and I were texting back and forth, and exchanging memories, stories and familiar poems.  Some of these are already in the archives of my blog, but some are not, and I wanted to share. 

The first was found in Grandmother Mary Sue Hatcher's bible and was written by Jimmy Hatcher, her only son after he got saved.  All of the other poems below have their authors except for the second to last one which is an "author unknown," and the hand written one to Suzanne by Grandmother. 

This all started when Sharon started reciting "Stopping by a woods on a snowy evening," by Robert Frost, after she had written some of the words on a picture that Suzanne took this morning, and sent it back to us.  That was one of our favorite poems about our woods at Shady Oaks, and we would recite it every time it snowed.  All three of my children and ourselves knew, Stopping By A Woods On A Snowy Evening," by heart, along with a second other poem, "A Treasured Implement."  Those two poems were mandatory if your last name was Hatcher.

Since Brian passed on, Sharon, Suzanne and I have been 3-way texting each other on an almost daily basis.  We are never far from each other's thoughts.  We share funny things and tell stories about Brian.  If it wasn't for them, I don't think I could stand being cooped up in the house this winter, and because of Covid-19.  They have kept me sane, and have kept me from feeling depressed over the loss of my son and their brother.  Texting has been good for all of us. 

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST

Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.