If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you’ve not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren’t okay with it, then just wait.

You’ll find it’s fine to be alone once you’re embracing it.

We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there.

Susan notes: This story is frequently attributed to Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards I have tried (unsuccessfully), to verify its truth, but have been unable to confirm via any of the internet myth sites. I’ve also followed the thread of authorship, and sent emails to people who claim to have known the author or seen the “garden,” but so far have not received a reply. If anyone has proof that this story is fact and not fiction, I would be happy to have the information. In the meantime, enjoy!

I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to weed
I've got shirts to press
The tots to dress

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Susan notes: This poem is dedicated to all lives needlessly cut short because of struggle, violence, illness, poverty, neglect, fear, hatred, conflict, and for no apparent reason other than they were called by angels, anywhere and everywhere in the world, yesterday, today, tomorrow and always.

It's also dedicated to relationships and years gone by, not that we should forget them, but that they should become the fertile ground in which we sow the seeds of the future.

Susan notes: at Christmas, when I was a young girl, my mother used to read me this story from a beautiful picture book.

I remember how it made me feel at once terribly sad and tearfully joyful.

I could imagine the poor little girl cold and alone, seeking comfort from a few matches, the only possesions she had...

By Julia Napier ©

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.

So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.