Soon after moving to our Fenton home
We were pleased to meet our neighbor next door
Mrs. Armstrong, a sweet, gentle, fragile woman
Was the epitome of a lady for sure
Her little home was always neat and tidy
All done up with Victorian decor
A beautiful piano sat in the living room
Arthritis wouldn't let her play anymore
I stood at Mrs. Armstrong's kitchen window
And watched while our house burned down
Blessed that the family had made it safely out
She draped my shoulders with her dressing gown
My husband tilled and planted her garden each year
And our sons helped her out by doing chores
People took her shopping and to church
It was a treat when she ventured outdoors
Though she always thanked us profusely
And feared we made too much of a fuss
To this day, I don't think she realized
We needed her as much as she needed us
Ninety-three years old when we moved away
Mrs. Armstrong still lived on her own
And with the help of those who loved her
Lived by herself until God called her Home
Kathleen McCoy EldridgeŠ
March 30, 2007
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