Childcare 



I sensed someone
peeking in on me
and immediately felt
her mischief.

When she giggled
I said,
You can come in Sara.

Surprised, she cocked her head
around the curtain and asked
How did you know it was me? 

A little Muse told me so,
I replied before showing her
the verse you had written
earlier in the day.

Sara's eyes shone brightly
when she heard her name
mentioned in the Poem.

Her eyes were all I could see
behind the mask
she wore.

Would you like a hug?
She asked,
so you won't be sad.

I laughed,
I'm not sad
I said, thinking about kids,
how they always know.

Even though Sara had never
seen me cry
or act sad, she knew,
she sensed.

Of course I told her I would love
a hug.
But as I bent down
towards her,
she flinched away from me
and said in a stern voice,
Are you crazy?
Without your mask!
We have to be careful of germs.

Inwardly I smiled as I saw her
being lectured
a million times over
by loved ones and doctors.

She suddenly softened
and gently told me,
Don't worry,
I'll teach you how to have leukemia
the right way.

I nearly wept then,
not because I was sad,
but because a weight
has been lifted from me
at the thought of being cared for
by an eight year-old girl
full of mischief
with a body ravaged by leukemia
and a heart
of innocent compassion.