Her hands were always soft and smooth to the touch.
Here skin was thinner than tissue paper, or such.

Her face was wrinkled with the passage of time.
Her eyes were a very light blue with gentleness in their shine.

Her hair was like a silver crown; put all up in a bun she wore.
I saw her take it down just once, to put it up once more.

With it down, she looked like an old Indian woman I saw in a book.
I was a little girl then, too scared to stare but I just had to look.

She had always worn dresses as far back as I could recall.
Never once, do I remember any pants on her at all.

She kept her stockings rolled just below her knee.
They were very noticeable when she sat down, you see.

I remember looking at her shoes that were swayed to the outside.
She was a big woman who wore slip on shoes and her feet were very wide.

There were times I saw her with her teeth and others without.
She was always a beautiful soul to me, one of earth’s angels, no doubt.

She was a Christian woman and at church she never missed a day.
She lived beside her church, whom she gave land for children to play.

I used to look at the Bible she’d carry in her hand; it was far from being fine.
The pages were wore, bent and highlighted; it was broken at the spine.

My father told me that she had read it entirely many times before.
She knew every word and you wouldn’t leave her house until being prayed for.

The very last thing I remember was her hugging me and waving goodbye.
I can still see her face and that smile; it makes me want to cry.

Later, many years after Great-Grandma was gone.
I found out just how great she really was to our entire family, alone.

She had adopted Grandma after she was born, from her best friend.
This young woman, (my real great-grandma) her life came to a sudden end.

I knew in my heart the great-grandma that I had known was very special to me.
But what I didn’t know was how she had saved and changed our family’s history.