The National Catholic Review
They ask how she grin through that face with that life.
I say Is never shielded from nothing
Cept dying young.
People deep bruised by something
Talk like the world should end.
Wont catch me dying every day like that.
Cause I seen them once
Just oncethe cracks in the universe
Thought Id fall right through.
Stead I laughedsaid some kind of God
Put up with a tattered-old place as here
Gotta have some grace for me.

Jenn Cavanaugh is a student in the masters program at Fuller Theological Seminary in Seattle, Wash., and is active in the Presbyterian Church.


DOROTHY HUDSON | 8/28/2007 - 12:15pm
I just sent a comment and forgot to include full name - Dean Knuth - pls amend.
DOROTHY HUDSON | 8/28/2007 - 12:13pm
Jane & I volunteer regularly for St. Vincent de Paul Society - this poem more than anything else I've read recently captures the grace that we receive by working with the materially poor. The voice in this is effective and real, and I suspect that you are a good listener. Thank you, Jenn, and may your words fall on other eager eyes and ears.

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