Being wounded in The War did not lessen my thirsting for peace.
Emeline and I, and those of our ten children who were sentient,
all but the baby who died on his first earthly day,
prayed for and worked for peace, and worked to rebuild.
We rebuilt the home site, the house, and the outbuildings where
earlier herds of the county’s best cattle had lowed
in the cool of the hot summer evenings, and frogs had heard
and responded, until down by the pond a chorus
was raised to glorify the workings of the Lord.
Our thirst not abated, we worked until dark, and from dawn.
In my sixty-six years I was never despairing or afraid.