There’s an old tale

by W. Somerset Maugham

called “The Appointment in Samarra,”

of a man whose servant

was being chased by death.

The man gave his servant

the ability to escape

by loaning him a horse

to ride away to a safer town.

The man saw death

and questioned why

it threatened his servant

the way it did.

Death explained to the man

that it was not a threat,

but simply a start of surprise

as it had expected to see the servant

in the very town where he is now headed

that very night.

This story struck me as interesting

as I drove to Knoxville, Tennessee,

for the day, to visit one of my

best girlfriends.

That Tennessee city was my home

for nearly a dozen years.

I wonder, had I stayed in Knoxville,

would I now be dead

or close to dead,

or would I have found a way

to fight the cancer

that took both my breasts

less than two years later?

Was the cancer born in Knoxville,

lying dormant and biding its time?

Or did it have its roots

in the new town in which I now live?

Am I only alive and thriving

because I moved to this new town,

or would that have still been the case

in my former home?

It makes me extra grateful

to God’s orchestration

that inspired me to move to

the little country town

where I now live

that has a better cancer doctor

than many cities in the US of A,

grateful to my husband

of two and a half years,

and so very grateful

that I am now cancer-free.

So, did death feel cheated?

Or perhaps my time on Mother Earth

not meant to be over so soon,

since I have many more stories

and poems and tales

to write, to tell, and to co-create

for the glory of God.

Either way, I am grateful.