THE BEST TWO YEARS
Taking a bath in cold water with a spoon
And trudging up five flights of stairs,
Trying to digest my companion’s home cooking,
And thinking nobody cares.
Are these the best two years of my life?
Surely, it’s got to get better.
If these are the best two years of my life,
Then, at least, can’t I get just one letter?
Keeping appointments where no one shows up
And sitting around on the floor,
Mosquitoes eating my face and my feet
And being too tall for the door.
Are you sure these are the best two years of my life?
I miss all my family and friends;
If these are the best two years of my life,
Why can’t I wait ‘til it ends?
Eating my fill of strange foreign food
And taking my shots for malaria,
Having another door slammed in my face
While I’m trying to calm Mom’s hysteria.
Are these really the best two years of my life?
Are you sure I’m going to live through it?
If these are the best two years of my life,
I’d better get busy and get to it.
Then watching a person’s life change for the better
And teaching of God’s great love and care;
Then hearing his halting, humble attempt
To offer his first simple prayer-Oh, these are the best two years of my life!
They couldn’t possibly get any better!
I’m happy, I’m fine, I’m doing just great,
So please disregard my last letter!
—Susan Hiatt Biggs