Her hair still hardly touched with grey, and wound
in gleaming braids around her head, my mother,
who in life was not so given to smiling,
grinned in last night’s dream from ear to ear
the double meaning of archaic smiles:
“I am alive” and also “I am dead.”
A snapshot from the Fifties, black and white:
there stands my mother, sturdy, tan, and beaming,
each arm around a daughter. And all three
are squinting in the same morning sun
that lit that joyful smile that lit the dream.
Time is short, so I’ll be direct: FIRST THINGS needs you. And we need you by December 31 at 11:59 p.m., when the clock will strike zero. Give now at supportfirstthings.com.
First Things does not hesitate to call out what is bad. Today, there is much to call out. Yet our editors, authors, and readers like you share a greater purpose. And we are guided by a deeper, more enduring hope.
Your gift of $50, $100, or even $250 or more will bring this message of hope to many more people in the new year.
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First Things needs you. I’m confident you’ll answer the call.
