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                                                                            Dsire                        
 
      A daughter to me, on earth, I've none;
      A daughter to see, I've naught, not one...

      Yet, even so...in my mind I know...
     
      I yet may meet, in a time unfurl'd,
      A daughter quite sweet, beyond this world...
JR  (poetry revised Sept 7, 2011)

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      Many years ago while my wife Serafina was on a visit to her native country of British Honduras, I received a letter from a sister of hers that Serafina had become sick and miscarried. It was too early in the developing life, to know the gender or whether it was one, or two .

      I went about picking names to cover the possibilities, which meant two names for boys and two for girls. It's been so long ago but it seems to me I selected the names Demetrius and Dirck, if they happened to be boys. One of the girl's names I selected was Dsire .

      In looking at the possibilities, I would incline to think it was just one that Serafina lost, but I simply don't know. Since I never had a daughter, I will imagine it to be one and paint a picture in my mind of what she might look like.  Yes, I admit, I'll paint her pretty. She's graceful and pleasing to look at.  In my mind I visualize her being of good temperament, sweet and kindly.  A gentle soul, she smiles easily and her face lights up.

      She's in her early twenties, which may be how people in heaven look, youthful in the full bloom of life. She is about 5 ft. 8 inches tall, with shoulder-length, dark hair.   Her green eyes are set in a well-shaped face with a small dimpled chin.  They're a shade of greenish turquoise, with a little brown coloration invading the verdant from the side.  One of her forebears had green eyes, a Confederate soldier, perhaps of Scottish descendancy and Louisiana residency. He was Serafina's great grandfather William Rhody who went south where he met an Indian woman from Ticul, Mexico, and they had a daughter named Emilia.

      I imagine Dsire looking something like this grandmother of Serafina's.  Her skin is smooth, of a delicate tan and her hands are slender with tapering fingers.   Had she lived, I can see the Indian women of the Yucatan with their dark eyes admiring this one who shared their native blood, as it seems they admired one of  her brothers as we travelled through.  It could have been in Ticul itself, but I doubt I knew at the time the place was connected to Serafina's ancestry.  This could've been in the central part of the town where there was a shop that sold almendras
almonds in English.

      With her second name I call her Dsire Immacule.   Should she happen to have a twin sister, her twin is  Marie Elise.

      I imagine her happy and joyful, there sometimes casting an eye toward the gate, thinking of the day she'll see us, and ready to greet us with a rose, fragrant with a blush of dawn. I hope I will be deemed good enough to enter and see the daughter I never saw in this life: a young woman blent of Spanish and Indian blood...and aye, perchance a lass, with a wee bit of Scottish...
                                                               
    John Riedell

 

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