A Poem for Christmas: The Ballad of the Harp Weaver

The Ballad of the Harp Weaver
Edna St. Vincent Millay

“SON,” said my mother,
When I was knee-high,
“You’ve need of clothes to cover you,
And not a rag have I.

“There’s nothing in the house
To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with
Nor thread to take stitches.

“There’s nothing in the house
But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman’s head
Nobody will buy,”
And she began to cry.

That was in the early fall.
When came the late fall,
“Son,” she said, “the sight of you
Makes your mother’s blood crawl,–

“Little skinny shoulder-blades
Sticking through your clothes!
And where you’ll get a jacket from
God above knows.

“It’s lucky for me, lad,
Your daddy’s in the ground,
And can’t see the way I let
His son go around!”
And she made a queer sound.

That was in the late fall.
When the winter came,
I’d not a pair of breeches
Nor a shirt to my name.

I couldn’t go to school,
Or out of doors to play.
And all the other little boys
Passed our way.

“Son,” said my mother,
“Come, climb into my lap,
And I’ll chafe your little bones
While you take a nap.”

And, oh, but we were silly
For half an hour or more,
Me with my long legs
Dragging on the floor,

A-rock-rock-rocking
To a mother-goose rhyme!
Oh, but we were happy
For half an hour’s time!

But there was I, a great boy,
And what would folks say
To hear my mother singing me
To sleep all day,
In such a daft way?

Men say the winter
Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
And food was dear.

A wind with a wolf’s head
Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
And sat upon the floor.

All that was left us
Was a chair we couldn’t break,
And the harp with a woman’s head
Nobody would take,
For song or pity’s sake.

The night before Christmas
I cried with the cold,
I cried myself to sleep
Like a two-year-old.

And in the deep night
I felt my mother rise,
And stare down upon me
With love in her eyes.

I saw my mother sitting
On the one good chair,
A light falling on her
From I couldn’t tell where,

Looking nineteen,
And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman’s head
Leaned against her shoulder.

Her thin fingers, moving
In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
Wonderful things.

Many bright threads,
From where I couldn’t see,
Were running through the harp-strings
Rapidly,

And gold threads whistling
Through my mother’s hand.
I saw the web grow,
And the pattern expand.

She wove a child’s jacket,
And when it was done
She laid it on the floor
And wove another one.

She wove a red cloak
So regal to see,
“She’s made it for a king’s son,”
I  said, “and not for me.”
But I knew it was for me.

She wove a pair of breeches
Quicker than that!
She wove a pair of boots
And a little cocked hat.

She wove a pair of mittens,
She wove a little blouse,
She wove all night
In the still, cold house.

She sang as she worked,
And the harp-strings spoke;
Her voice never faltered,
And the thread never broke.
And when I awoke,–

There sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder
Looking nineteen
And not a day older,

A smile about her lips,
And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
Frozen dead.

And piled up beside her
And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king’s son,
Just my size.

Science Lesson for the Day

I think the moment was lost on her:

Emma: I keep swinging it in circles and when I stop it keeps going in circles.
John: Emma, I believe you’ve discovered Newton’s Third Law of Motion!
Emma: Can you cut this ribbon off of this for me?

Late Update: I think maybe she knew I was wrong. I think it should have been Newton’s First Law of Motion. Although if she knew I was wrong, she would have told me so.

On Why I Joined AmeriCorps

I guess I’ve always been a bit of an idealist. I remember when I was younger - when I was in the Navy I guess - thinking it might be nice to join the Peace Corps. Unfortunately, due to the career path I took in the service (Cryptologic Technician, Technical), the Peace Corps was not an option for me. Or so I heard.

Oh. Lookee here:

Does working for the CIA or having a background in intelligence disqualify you from serving in the PC? Why? Is that discriminatory?

Persons who have been employed by an intelligence agency, or otherwise have been associated with intelligence activities, are ineligible to serve as volunteers. This exclusionary policy is one aspect of the broader, long-standing policy of maintaining an absolute separation between Peace Corps and intelligence activities conducted by the U.S. government. This absolute separation is necessary to protect volunteers’ safety and to maintain the trust and confidence of the people in the countries in which volunteers serve.

I reckon that answers that.

So where was I?

Oh, yes. Ever the idealist. And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to believe in the value of policies that help mitigate poverty and provide opportunity.

But it wasn’t until I took “Race, Class and Gender” at St. Edward’s that I started focusing on a specific area to which I thought I might want to dedicate myself. Specifically, economic and wealth inequality. (Which are, of course, linked to any number of other types of inequality.)

After I graduated from St. Ed’s in August of 2007, I continuted to stay home with my daughter until August of 2008, when she started a full time pre-K program. I started casting about more seriously for gainful employment. I realized fairly quickly that I was pretty much out of the running for many of the kinds of jobs that I wanted; a burden, perhaps, of living in a city with a well regarded school of Public Affairs.

While browsing the St. Edward’s University Career Services job listing, I took note that AmeriCorps had a number of open positions in Austin. I checked out AmeriCorps’ website, and when I saw VISTAs (Volunteers in Service to America) are specificially dedicated to fighting poverty, I knew I’d found my program.

I guess, long story short, my reasons for becoming an AmeriCorps VISTA:

• An opportunity to work in a position to help mitigate poverty.
• An opportunity to do so in my own community.
• An opportunity to serve with the Capitol Area Food Bank of Texas, which is well regarded and very active in Central Texas.
• An opportunity to scratch my idealistic itch.
• It paid enough to make it worth my while. I’d been a volunteer post-graduate intern with my Texas State Legislator’s office, but it didn’t pay, though the experience was great. I knew that it would likely be very difficult for me to find a paying position doing what I wanted to do, and I didn’t want to take a position in the state government just to get a paying job. Nor could we afford for me to do a long term volunteer gig in hopes of eventually finding a position.
• An opportunity to gain skills and experience working in a non-profit environment.