By the age of two
chocolate was my favorite hue.
One day, I was firmly woke
by my mother’s forceful poke.
We were shopping
in the lower level of the Five and Ten
when I saw the most lovely woman,
elegantly sleek with a stately mien.
I pulled my thumb out of my mouth
and stood in silent awe
at the first person of color I ever saw.
As soon as I spoke I felt the poke
and knew what I had said was wrong.
What had I said that made Mom move
to wake me up, and make me see
some new truth among the many
she tried to teach me?
I said with joy, so gleefully,
“Mommy, look at the chocolate lady!”
Mom’s horrified look
was accompanied by the poke.
“Shush,” Mom said, “we do not comment
on how others look.”
The lady grinned,
then opened her smile to take us in.
She said to my Mother, “Your little girl is fine.
I assume she loves chocolate as much as I.”
The two women laughed and shared a smile
that brought out their beauty, in eyes that shined
with love and joy in the innocence
of a child who thought chocolate ladies
are oh, so deliciously fine.
I asked the lady, “Why are you a different color?”
Then, Mom said, “God made people of many hues,
sizes, and shapes to make the world more fun for you.
We would all be so bored if we were the same.
Like the bigger box of crayons of sixty-four hues
you keep asking me to buy for you,
God made each one of us different
so we could enjoy life so much more.”
Then the two ladies said, “So very nice to meet you.”
That day I came home with a box of sixty-four
crayons and wisdom, and so much more.
I was woke with a poke
and found a new and bigger world to explore.
At seventy-three it still holds true
that I love chocolate, and diversity, too;
in the paints near the easel, the neighbors nearby,
the books on the shelf, and the places I fly.
The world awakens with pokes to keep us awoke
so life’s many wondrous possibilities do not pass us by.
