The Amen Corner

We shared a two-storey house and garden

with a gold-veined stone fountain

in a Canadian mining town years ago

when few people locked their doors,

neighbours knew all their neighbours,

visits rarely planned or announced.

Our family of six lived upstairs;

Mom’s retired parents lived down.

Beautiful flowers grew around

Grandpa’s colourful garden there.

Four children with lots of toys,

two girls, two boys and many things

crowded into the upstairs space-

our ‘home sweet home’ not a ‘tidy’ place.

Often we’d hear someone knocking

at our shared downstairs side door.

As it opened, we’d hear “We’re here!”

You should have seen Mom’s face.

We’d scramble when Mom commanded

“Clear the decks!” Then we’d race

to tidy ‘the mess’ of our living-

the mess on ‘battleship’ flooring,

on tables, on counters, on chairs,

things spread out everywhere.

We’d grab and throw ‘with care’

everything into ‘the Amen Corner’-

our secret place out of sight,

saying “Amen!” laughing, praying

no visitors would actually see

just how ‘untidy’ we could be

after climbing the stairs

to our heavenly haven.

(Sometimes even pots and pans landed

in the pile out of sight that day.)

Then Mom would sigh and say

“Okay”, smile and open the upstairs door

to welcome the company in.

Visitors ‘talk’, Mom knew. She was no fool.

I laugh, remembering ‘the Amen Corner’-

that place of ‘saving grace’

and ‘saving face’ with visitors too

where our possessions would ‘disappear’.

They’d ‘resurface’ soon once again

appearing ‘a bit worse for wear’

or sometimes remain

hiding a while longer in there

until finally convinced

“the coast is clear!”

April 1, 2023

Shelley Audrey Wilson

Victoria, BC