My friend Judy sent me a lovely gift; she took one of her beautiful photographs, and one of my poems and combined them, then framed the result and sent it to me. I actually cried when I saw it. Some people know just the perfect thing to say or do, and Judy is one of those people. Anyway, I thought I'd reprint the poem here:
The Little Girl Who Ran
I was once the little girl who ran,
I could not walk, I could not stand
To plod along as grownups do,
I thought they crawled, they thought I flew.
“Why walk?”, I thought, “when you can run,
and leap and dance and have some fun?”
Now I wish I had the chance,
To once more gallop, run and dance,
It seems disease has closed that door,
And I can’t run much anymore,
But in my mind, I’m still the same,
And though my legs are weak and lame,
Inside, I run without care or plan,
I’m still the little girl who ran.