Petition

By Edith Cherrington

If somewhere in Your mansion in the sky
You have a room with windows to the sun
Which look upon the street where crowds go by,
Please, will You reserve it, Lord, for one
Who may be coming soon?
She’d like to sit
Beside the window in a rocking chair
And watch the angels pass, and dream and knit.
She is not a woman who would care
For harps and trumpets or for streets of gold.
Heaven, to her, would mean enough to eat,
A shawl that would protect her from the cold,
A new print dress, and shoes that fit her feet.
Heaven would be release from poverty,
And from the constant worries that occur –
The small necessities of life would be
Heaven to her.

(1939)