A LIFE
Esther Philips, oldest of thirteen, came
from Liverpool, had tea with Buffalo
Bill and, having siblings and her mother,
a drunkard, to care for, refused an offer
to join a chorus line. When I knew her, she
had no teeth, wore the same two black dresses
and munched Quaker Oats between meals. She cried
when I played ‘La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin’
on the upright in the back room. She outlived
two husbands and four of seven children –
and died saying that she knew how Jesus felt.
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By David Selzer