I had planned to write this as prose because it makes an awkward and overly specific poem, but somehow I could not write it that way.
We Thought it Was for Them
We thought it was for our parents,
when we decided to go to Missoula
for Thanksgiving this year.
It would be Reed's Mom's first one
apart from her youngest son,
and other family was gone that day.
My Dad and his youngest son,
no other family close about,
long used to holidays alone,
had no plans beyond eating out.
When we invited both to come,
we thought it was for them.
When we left the comfort of our home
so our parents would not be alone,
we thought it was for them.
We'd forgotten the deep comfort of
resting in the lasting love
of those who soothed us long ago.
When we made our change in plans
we did not fully understand,
though by this time, we should have known,
God's plans are bigger than our own.
It wasn't just for them--
it was for us.
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