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
Flowerpoet 
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