Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Poetess

I sat by her bed when I was but a toddler. She laid beneath the windows in the diningroom of the Loxley homestead. My grandmother was dying of cancer. Glimpses are all I have of this woman.

She taught in a one room school house on the corner of Byreley and Neff Roads. Her children would attend the same school. It was just down the lane and across the bridge from her home where she raised her three sons and one daughter. Where she cooked for Isaiah on the old Kalamazoo Stove. Over the years, I was often asked if I was Ethel's granddaughter. Upon answering, I was then given a long story as to the influence my grandmother had on the lives of others. One of my favorite teachers, Miss Rhoades told me of the love and respect she had for my grandmother. A woman who influenced her journey to the front of the classroom. Even strangers seemed to know the name of Ethel Hollinger Loxley.

My grandmother was poetess. She wrote of her faith and her love of nature. Several of her poems even found their way into the Greenville Daily Advocate.

God's Realm
The kiss of the sun for comfort,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in the country
Than anywhere else on earth.
                             - Ethel Loxley

I like to think that my grandmother's work will once again sit upon the page in the Daily Advocate. I think she would be happy to be sharing a bit print with her granddaughter. When my grandmother passed away in that house where she raised her children, a neighbor said that she saw a white dove fly from the chimney. A spirit flying home.

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