(Some years ago a young woman came to work as a clerk at a motel where I was working. Her name was Alice; she was from Belize; she was going to school part-time; she said she wanted to be independent; I admired her competence.)

Alice, working at dawn,
Adding figures, answering calls,
Double checking, checking out,
Working, working, working.

Alice, talking on the phone;
Alice, thoughtfully alone;
Alice, gazing in space;
Alice, Alice, Alice.

Face so beautifully unique,
Honest sincerity there does speak;
Eyes dark as midnight specked with light—-
Harmonies of music changed to sight.

Voice low and calm
With bits of laughter clear,
She can quickly frown
Down irrelevant cheer.

She’s fast on her feet;
Zoom! quicker than quick!
Here, there, back, forth,
Sits down to write.

Alice, transcribing her soul;
Alice, totally self-responsible;
Alice, creating her life;
Alice, my friend without strife.

She’ll find her a better job
And do what she loves to do—-
Give worth to every place
That has her face in view.

Her competent mind will learn
Each delicate thing it must
To earn her those quiet thrills
That are good and true and just.

Alice, alive on her own;
Alice, in love all day;
Alice, working the meaning
Of “doing it my own way”.

There is no woman on earth
Who for all time is so right,
Who bears in her spirit more worth
Than a thousand stars shimm’ring with light.

Alice, a name without malice;
Alice, the jewel of life’s chalice;
Alice, friend’s heart’s grand palace,
Alice, Alice, Alice.

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2 Responses to Alice

  1. Opus Dei says:

    That’s so rare, Brian Sir. Competence. I wish to see such Alice’s!

  2. Yes, Opus, it is rare. I hope you will see such Alice’s!

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