I always called her Ma'am
A Story poem
By
Jude Kyrie


Ma’am

*I remember the first time
that I met her.
It was at the orphanage.
I was a lifer.
Who adopts fourteen
year old boys?
Who are always running away.
Apparently no one.

She was beautiful.
and had the most angelic face.
Oh! her smile,
it was like purest sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind

I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood.
Full of emotions that
I had never felt before.
Or maybe I just needed
someone of my own to love.

I have never seen
as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her.

She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books.
by important authors.

To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew I loved her.
She took me to the mission where
the homeless lived and we served
in the free kitchen together.
I would have followed her to the moon.

She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.

But explained gently
to my young heart
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.

She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming
It was a bout of malaria.
But I believe that God missed her
As much as I did.

Now when I feel alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box.
the only thing I took
from the orphanage.
And read her stacks of letters.
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again

My little daughter sometimes
Says who is the pretty lady daddy
I lift her up to look at her picture
closely on the family room wall.
And I say to her
That's sister Angelica honey
She was daddy's best friend.