Bereaved Parents, Family, Grief, Poetry, Writing

Princess at the top of the Stairs

Corrie's Mom

A princess waits at the top of the stairs

awaiting Her hand. For the first time, a hand,

ungloved, will reach out to the souls who

perished from Earth too soon, and those who

left with the train on time. Tapping shoes and

grasping hands await a queen in a promised

land. Much news stirs our hearts on the

Earth as we remember her and the day of planes,

towers, and a field from twenty-one years ago

for heroes are not made by words, but those who

climb stairs and dig through stone and steel in

the hopes to find one who’s still alive. Many times,

I’ve longed to take the golden stairs to where my

daughter too soon did climb.

And, when I learned my aunt took the train,

I saw a little girl waiting for her at the top of

those golden stairs. She was always a princess to

her father and me dressed in leggings with a

hole and a scraped up knee.

I know a princess waits at the top of the stairs

for queens and those who lived in a life without.

She waits at the top of a golden stair, just as a

firefighter lost in the towers long ago lifted my

daughter from the stairs and took her to heaven.

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Published by Corrie's Mom

They say teacher turn over is high right now, and many teachers will leave the profession in five years or less. I will enter my seventh year as a full-time teacher, and my 12th year in education after I'd started as a sub and teacher assistant. I was the student in the 1990s you did not want in your classroom because I was diagnosed with ADHD and did not know how to socialize with other kids. I was due to be tested for autism, but this was considered an ostracizing experience for a child then, especially a girl. I am a third generation teacher and author of seventeen creative works.

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