Warm Milk

Warm Milk

Along with her bouquets of blossom and her greeting from the queen,
Enclosed with one card was a letter, recalling this memorable scene…
Happy Birthday Miss Williams, the letter began,
We thought you might like to know of the lasting impression
You made on us all, so many years ago.
It was winter deep and the infant’s class, atingle from finger to toe,
Had arrived as cold as snowdrops, after trudging through the snow.

Our village school was a welcome sight,
Open fire burning bright, with safety-guard in place…
And there you stood, so pretty Miss, in your blouse of hand-crocheted pink lace.
We will always remember those crates of small milk
In a snowdrift beside the school door.
You would have them brought in before lessons began
So the milk would have time to thaw.

Our damp winter coats you would take and hang high,
So that when, after school, for the long journey home
Our clothes would be warm and dry.
Oh yes, we remember the old village school,
And the church with its snow-covered spire,
But most of all Miss, we remember you
For warming our milk by the fire.

Written by Mary Hansen