The Hobbled Heart

By Margo Brown

I chose a daughter but didn’t choose
The metal bar between her shoes.
There were doctors – nurses – a hospital bed.
“She may go with a bar,” a firm voice said.
So the bar was made, and I set her down:
Two small, hobbled feet on uncertain ground.
In anxious dread I watched her start,
And I felt that I had a hobbled heart.

She stumbled a little while starting out,
But laughing eagerly, hitched about.
She reached the children – began a game,
And my hobbled heart was wrung with shame.
She had not looked back but with lifted head
Had hurried to greet the world instead!
Then I knew my own fear had fettered me,
And my heart was suddenly, surely free!

(1954)