Two different stories,
Same friend Jean Huffey,
Two fifferent times,
Bith lesft me wondering why!
Communion to an old dear friend,
Jean Huffey of Waukon,Iowa ninety-one years old,
Her daughters wanted me to have what I had given her in twenty-five years of friendship,
I loathe liars,
Smiling all the while the the Johova Witness told me the girls took things they had given their mom and wanted me to have the things I had given her,
I hit a little box with four books,
A poem and a set of candle sticks,
Not the painting I bought at a sale for sixty-five dollars,
Or the artwork from Florance,Italy, I had given mom I had shared with Jean,
And Jean loved hand blown globes,
Guess the christians recall they gave them to Jean,
Trust me next time I see the boble toter I plan on asking her so where on earth did the expensive things I gave your mom go from twenty-five years of friendship,
See years ago Jean placed my name on all I had given her in 25 years,
I got the deer plates back and gave them to my friend Judy, who died this year ,
She said deer are not my thing,
I said I could take them back, to which she said,
Then Judy said they are pretty!
Communion at the nursing home,
Nice female minister,
Great stories about her family and cats,
The comminion fell short,
The blood of christ wasn’t wine,
Or grape juice it was,
Kool-aid,
Grape kool-aid!
Val Whitewolf 