Miss Shorty
Weird.
I was stuck in traffic beside a graveyard the other day.
My eyes drifted across the road to a photo on the tombstone.
A black woman was staring back at me, and the photo was really clear. The overweight woman was smiling brightly. A truly wonderful photo of the lady and it was shining brightly in the circular holder.
Estella 'Miss Shorty' Shepherd - 11/12/36 to 11/05/11.
The wait for traffic to clear was eternal. A construction vehicle was attempting to back out of a site onto the road ahead.
I spent a few moments with Miss Shorty. It seemed as if I were destined to be stuck there for a moment on a busy day.
And it was obvious to me that she was well-loved.
A big stone.
That wonderful smile in that clear photo.
Even her nickname on the stone.
Below the dates that she lived were the engraved words:
'The Lord is my Shepherd.'
I glanced back to her surname.
Yeah, that was a fitting verse, I imagine for Miss Shorty Shepherd.
She almost made it to 75.
I thought of the family she left behind.
I imagined her days.
I'm thinking 'Miss Shorty' was a religious gal. I imagined that she was an outstanding cook, a fine mother, a good aunt, a doting grandmother, and that she was quick-witted.
I thought of people stopping by to see her smiling photo and feeling a bit of comfort.
She was right there facing traffic.
Touching the lives of people who never had the chance to meet her.
The lane cleared and we headed off down the road. I was in Rochester somewhere. Near the path where Miss Shorty had walked with her shepherd.
RIP Estella.
I was stuck in traffic beside a graveyard the other day.
My eyes drifted across the road to a photo on the tombstone.
A black woman was staring back at me, and the photo was really clear. The overweight woman was smiling brightly. A truly wonderful photo of the lady and it was shining brightly in the circular holder.
Estella 'Miss Shorty' Shepherd - 11/12/36 to 11/05/11.
The wait for traffic to clear was eternal. A construction vehicle was attempting to back out of a site onto the road ahead.
I spent a few moments with Miss Shorty. It seemed as if I were destined to be stuck there for a moment on a busy day.
And it was obvious to me that she was well-loved.
A big stone.
That wonderful smile in that clear photo.
Even her nickname on the stone.
Below the dates that she lived were the engraved words:
'The Lord is my Shepherd.'
I glanced back to her surname.
Yeah, that was a fitting verse, I imagine for Miss Shorty Shepherd.
She almost made it to 75.
I thought of the family she left behind.
I imagined her days.
I'm thinking 'Miss Shorty' was a religious gal. I imagined that she was an outstanding cook, a fine mother, a good aunt, a doting grandmother, and that she was quick-witted.
I thought of people stopping by to see her smiling photo and feeling a bit of comfort.
She was right there facing traffic.
Touching the lives of people who never had the chance to meet her.
The lane cleared and we headed off down the road. I was in Rochester somewhere. Near the path where Miss Shorty had walked with her shepherd.
RIP Estella.
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