When I was growing up, our family employed a maid. Her name was Augustine Boone. As a child, I had no notion of racism, oppression, or the hardships of a black woman with a large family who relied on domestic service to feed them. She is part of my earliest and most tender memories. Another woman who shaped me as a young girl was Sister John Vianney. She taught at my school and influenced me in many ways. She was what Catholic kids called a “fun nun”. I’ve been out of touch with both of them for over 50 years, but they remain a part of my life.
There are two ladies that I love from my life of long ago
One had skin as black as night; the other was white as snow.
Sweet Augustine wore a soft white dress and her face was lined with care
Had I looked awhile behind her golden smile - what pain was hiding there?
Her hands were rough and calloused; I guess those years were cruel
But I’d only see how she’d laugh with me when I came home from school
I guess I never understood and I can’t recall the day
I only know that she had to go, so Augustine went away.
Sweet Augustine, I love you
Always have and always will
I wonder if you knew me now
Do you think you’d love me still?
Sister John wore a long black veil and her face was lined with laughter
Did she ever find what she had in mind - what her heart was searching after?
Her hands were soft and silken, in prayer or playing ball
She understood that a woman could be anything at all
I guess I never understood and I can’t recall the day
I only know that she had to go, so Sister John went away.
Sister John, I love you
Always have and always will
I wonder if you knew me now
Do you think you’d love me still?
There are two ladies that I love from my life of long ago
I know I’ll always love them both - I wonder if they know.
And when I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord I’ll always keep
My memories and every dream
Of Sister John and Augustine.
(Written May 10, 1982)
© Pat and Jerry Grigadean, 1998