...is a gift I received from my stepfather. It's not a cheerful image--it's a picture of a shrouded woman, done in muddy reds and browns. Below it is the last stanza from "War is Kind," a poem by Stephen Crane.
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
I first read the poem in high school, and it touched me then, in a way I didn't understand, but that most of us who love to read have felt more than once. And when I saw the picture in my mother's house after she married my stepfather, I coveted it immediately.
Today, when I look at it, I am grateful for two things. First, for my stepfather's generosity in giving me the picture. Second--and more importantly--for the fact that my children (ages 6 and 8) are still too young to be conscripted into the war that draws inexorably nearer.
(Will post a photo of the picture later, if time permits.)
