Her name arose in a recent telephone conversation with my mother. I had all but forgotten about the older woman I used to visit as a young boy, who lived catty-corner to our family's home. I don't recall how our visits began, but I do remember that she sometimes offered me a slice of fresh-baked […]
Her name arose in a recent telephone conversation with my mother.
I had all but forgotten about the older woman I used to visit as a young boy, who lived catty-corner to our family's home.
I don't recall how our visits began, but I do remember that she sometimes offered me a slice of fresh-baked bread with butter and honey when I came over for a visit. To me, there's almost nothing better than that, even today.
Glenna Admire Davis moved to Cherokee, Oklahoma, where I grew up, from Texas. She and her husband, Bill, were both retired.
Mrs. Davis, as I called her back then, and I may have developed a bond because we were both writers. This was around the time I was writing and publishing the Neighborhood News (actually, my father photocopied my handwritten newspaper at his office). I probably met her when I dropped by to see if she had any news for me.
Those copies of the Neighborhood News have long since vanished (it had a short shelf-life, only two issues), but I did find a collection of poetry she gave me back then. Entitled 'Thoughts of Life' by Glenna Davis, there is one poem within her booklet that contains a bit of wisdom and also some good advice. The poem is entitled 'Midnight,' and I present it here with a few minor grammatical corrections: 'Wrap up today in a package / Store it on memory's shelf / For nothing can change how you lived it / So it's praise or condemn for oneself / Value and weigh it for its merit / Judge it for loss or for gain / You can balance tears with laughter / Your victory with dreams / That were vain. / The ledger is closed to that entry / Seal of the past is in place / Ink of the age is upon it / It's filed away out in space / So wrap up today in a package / Store it on memory's shelf / The way that we lived it is over / Count your own score: it was done by yourself. / We wish you the hope / To cheer you on your way / A heart full of faith / To face each coming day / And on your life's wonderful repose / Joy and peace for you every one at each day's close.' She dedicated this poem to her husband and loved ones.
I lost contact with Glenna Admire Davis when we moved away from Cherokee to nearby Alva when I was 15 years old. However, a recent search on ancestry.com showed that Glenna Admire Davis returned to her beloved Texas Hill Country, which is where she was buried in 1997 upon her death at 91 years old.