My Mother, the Stone Chapel

Issue 17

My mother was sacristan for her church. 
She liked to recount Luke’s story 
of Martha and Mary—and identified with Martha,
 
cooking and cleaning so others could focus 
on the gospel. Approaching seventy, 
she’d devoted most of her life to such work. 
 
That year, her birthday fell on a Friday--
the day she always started out early, walking 
to the harbor and up the hill to the old stone chapel, 
 
to place new linen on the altar, to arrange the flowers, 
get everything ready for Sunday. 
When she arrived, the church was open. 
 
In the narthex, she paused at the stained-glass window. 
When she entered the nave, she found 
lit candles and the choir seated in their pews. 
 
They celebrated her birthday—seventy candles, 
Mary’s Magnificat, and holy communion. 
Others from the church ran the kitchen that day. 

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Michael Mintrom is a poet from Aotearoa New Zealand, based in Melbourne, Australia. His poems have been published in many literary journals including: The Blue Mountain Review, Cordite Poetry Review, Dust Poetry Magazine, Feral Poetry and Art, and Halfway Down the Stairs.

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