Seeing What He Sees

She looks at him, he looks at her.
Their love is plain to see.
For over sixty years it's been
Their heart born legacy.

She's always been a beauty
To anyone around,
But none appreciate it more
Than his grinning eyes of brown.

For years he's looked upon her
At home and on the stage
And praised her work and efforts
In the many roles she's played.

Her face is etched upon his mind
Her kindness in his heart.
They laugh and smile and relish life
Making aging well an art.

His eyes have changed, as some eyes do,
After years of working well,
The features of his lovely bride
His eyes no longer tell.

But her beauty, only strengthened,
By the ups and downs of life,
Is the kind that comes from deep within
More felt than seen, his wife.

"Do not feel sad," he tells me,
As we speak of vision lost
"For I have her, and she has me.
I'll take that at any cost."

"We'll always have each other,
Thanks to a loving God.
And that will keep us happy
Through any trial we trod."

She looks at him, He looks at her.
Their love is plain to see
And now I understand at last
Their heart born legacy.
                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

~For Lael and Margaret Woodbury






My Voice

Why did He give this gift to me
If I must hold it in for no one else to see?
The time’s not now
The time’s not right
For now I kneel right here
And kiss small heads goodnight.
These are the greatest gifts that I could have.
They are the reason I have given all I have.
So with my voice I’ll sing to them
And teach them all
Of who they’re meant to be.
Maybe someday, I’ll stand
And sing upon some stage
And the applause and praise will ring.
But for tonight, I sing to them a lullaby.
                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

One More Kathryn


Feb 2009

There once was a family, they all went by Chapman
The one thing they lacked was just one more Kathryn.
Now, don’t get me wrong, they already had two
But a 3rd one was needed and John knew what to do

He went off to the Y and searched all around
Until a tall Kathryn in a green coat was found. 
She hap’ly agreed to his get married skeem
For this boy she found out was one tall handsome dream. 

We can’t overlook the day she decided
She opened her heart and to her diary confided
“He made me a chocolate double-tiered cake
This boy, if he asks me, my hand he may take!”

February 14th was the day she wrote that
But John, a bit slow, on his think chair he sat
For two more full weeks, her hopes started to drop
But he finally caught on and the question he popped.

Ten years have gone by since his search she did end.
And now to the fam’ly this message I send.

The last name he gave me the day that we married.
I gratefully took and now I have carried
With honor and love for the Chapmans before me
Especially John, and our Valentine’s story. 

                          ~by Kathryn Chapman 

Trish and Dan



I knelt to say my prayers today
To count my blessings up
And found that God had given me
An overflowing cup
He brought to mind the people
Who instruments had been
In His great work of kindness
Through serving fellow men
He helped me to remember
The kindness we’d been shown
By two who opened heart and home
And loved us as their own
Trish, my cherished sister,
Who’s been there all my life
And Daniel, man of greatness
Who’s taken her to wife
Yours was a gift most needed
A roof over our heads
A place where we could play and run
And sleep upon our beds
But more than this—you showed us
His tender loving care
When unlocked doors you opened wide
And a blessed home you shared
                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

Third Hour


I sit and look around at you
You women of the Lord
Gathered in this simple class
Each members of our ward
There is a reason you are here
To learn or grow or teach
It’s up to you to find out why
His purposes to seek
                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

The Night is Short


The night is short, the morning quick.
My sleepy head I just can’t lick.
My bed so warm, my pillow deep
Alarms go off and I still sleep.
I’m just a little sluggish, see
And hope Paige hasn’t given up on me.

See you Monday, fresh and early.

Signed,The Slug-Three-Doors-Down

                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

Stillborn



8/2/2011
John and Sarah,

We are so sad as we think of your hearts,
So tender and hurting and beat.
A baby you’d hoped for and prayed you could have
And forever in your family keep.

We don’t have the answers
We can’t stop the pain
But we know that The Father is near.
He’ll hold your sweet baby, caress, and keep safe
Till you come to take care of her there.

Our prayers are with you,
John and Kathryn Chapman


“With all the strength of my soul, I testify that God lives, that His Beloved Son is the firstfruits of the Resurrection, that the gospel of Jesus Christ is that penetrating light that makes of every hopeless dawn a joyful morning.”       ~Thomas S. Monson

Sara B.


Our Sara’s all grown up, this sweet little girl
All grown up and gone off to face the big world
To college she goes way far off in the West
As your family we have but just one small request
Sara, remember how much you are loved
By your parents, your siblings, and Father Above

Quest for the Best


I left your arms so long ago
To venture into life
Into this world of beauty
Of challenges and strife.
What is it you would have me do?
What treasure should I find?
The answer comes so quietly
And gently to my mind.
It isn’t gold or diamonds
Or something you can see,
The Lord has sent me out upon
The quest for the best in me.
                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

My Mothers


How can a person such as I
Ever endeavor to describe
The blessings held within her life
As a daughter, mother, and a wife
These blessings I attribute to
God-given mothers, the two of you.

I sat and read a bit today
Of the struggles that I had
When on my wedding, day of days,
I acquired a second Mom and Dad.

What now will I call them?
They’re his parents not mine.
Parental terms too dear to me
This was going to take some time.

I asked my own Mom for advice
And this is what she said,
“Don’t say her first name or Hey-You,
But call her Mom instead.”

How could I ever use that word
That precious, blessed name
With any other woman than
The one from which I came

She’d earned that name through sleepless nights
Through smiles, and tears, and pain
She’d sewn my dresses, made my dolls,
And tamed my chestnut mane.

She cried with me when I was hurt
And bandaged up my knees
She kissed and held me close to her
And listened to my pleas

How could another woman now
Be granted such an honor?
Could my dear Mother’s precious name
Be shared and placed upon her?



But in a moment she knew not
She earned that title too
She worked and served and I could see
That ‘Mother’ name would do.

It was the night of our reception
After I’d changed out of my dress
I noticed she was working still
And wouldn’t take a rest

Everyone had gone to bed
But she kept plugging on
Till all the floors had been swept up
And each last dish was done.

I saw within her qualities
That my own mother had
And knew that I could learn from her
As I had my Mom and Dad.

Another fact not overlooked,
To it I must give note,
She was the one who raised the man
With whom I’d share the yoke.

Eight years have passed now
Since the day I gained another Mother
And I’ve some children of my own,
Three sisters and their brother.

And at night when I kneel down
To offer up my prayer
I thank him for my Mothers
With that blessed name they share.

                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

Mom #1, thank you for all you have taught me in my life and for molding me into the person that I am.  I make so very many mistakes, but you have always loved me and shown confidence in me.  I have always loved to talk to you.  Dad still makes fun of how much I call you, but I need you.  I need to hear your voice, your “Helloooo” (with that dip in it), on the other end of the line.  I need to be called “Katie” and feel your love through the miles, to know I am yours, that I will always be yours.  I need to hear stories I’ve heard a thousand times, old familiar names and old familiar places.  I have seen you serve all my life.  You have worked until your body screams out to stop and then you work a little more.  You care for me when you should have nothing left to give.  You draw on our Heavenly Father for strength and share it with us.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Mom #2, how can a person show so much love to one who is not her own.  But as I have heard Dad say, I am not yours by birth, but by covenant.  My first Mom gave me life and you have given me someone to share it with.  How can I thank you for such a gift.  Through your sacrifices he learned of the world but was sheltered from its stains.  He’s kind to me.  He’s patient, loving, and understanding.  He’s a hard worker, humble, respectful, and dedicated.  When he sits at the piano and fills our home with music, I thank you.  When I come home from some evening meeting to find bathed, sleeping children, dishes done, and the floors all swept, I thank him.  BUT he reminds me it is you who wouldn’t have let him go to bed with the kitchen all a mess.  When I have made some really naĂŻve comments or choices you have not judged me, but loved me, and shown confidence in me—in us. 

Mom and Mom, I love you both and thank you for your love—and for the love of our dear Dads!! 

Yours always,

Kathryn




Knees


What is a knee? One might assess
It’s bone and flesh and tissue
But to the one possessing it
Its use is more the issue

To her it’s how she learned to move
To crawl across the floor
And then to stand, to walk, to run
To fall and run some more

Throughout her life she’s needed knees
For work and play and leisure
But for one purpose they’ve been used
So much we can not measure

Those were the times she bent down low
And on her knees she prayed
For the children that she cared for
As they stumbled through each day

Then she’d get up and help them
Run them to and fro
While the burden of a heavy womb
Let other children grow

And now her knees are breaking down
All worn and torn and tattered
Because she chose to use them for
The things that really mattered

As I reflect on knees used up
In caring for her crew
And hips and back and feet and hands
And all that she’s been through

I know I need to thank her
For the sacrifice she’s made
For the life that she has given us
And the heavy price she’s paid  

                          ~by Kathryn Chapman 2010

Just a Nursery Worker


"I'm just a Nursery worker
Why should I even go?
If I'm not there at church today
Nobody's going to know."

That might be what you told yourself
This morning as you dressed
But let me tell you my thoughts now
And put your heart at rest.

My Sundays as a mother
Are hectic—that is true
And there are days I wonder
If I'll ever make it through.

But then my mind remembers
Nursery's just an hour away!
I'll get through one more sacrament
And go to class today!

Please know how much I love you.
I'm thankful that you came.
Tonight I'll thank our Father
And praise your blessed name.

                          ~by Kathryn Chapman

My Superman

Let me take a minute
To tell you how I feel
About this boy I married
He’s superman, for real!

He’s tall and dark and handsome
A true sight to behold
He’s smart and rich and funny
And quickly growing old

So, maybe I stretch the truth a bit
But ~ he really is quite cool
He’s quite the awesome Daddy
And he’s doing great in school

He swept me off my feet one day
Back in nineteen ninety-nine
I quickly had my mind made up
And was set to make him mine

He hummed and hawed forever
It took him four whole weeks
Before he popped that question
And my hand he did seek

We met and married in Utah
And thought we’d stay a while
But he carried me off to Virginia
With his great big happy smile

From there is was to Texas
Then PA and Raleigh too
It was a lot of packing
But without him I’d be blue

So, across the land I followed
From place to place to place
He’s the one that keeps me going
With that smiling happy face

Along the road we’ve picked up
A hitchhiker or three
They’re sweet and cute and precious
And growing up like weeds

This poem started out to be
A tribute to a man
The one that borrowed raisins
And played the tuba in the band

I thought he had no faults at all
Not true, I came to see
But for this I am grateful
They’re what make him right for me

Thank you for the flowers,
The presents and the notes
But the love you always give me
Is what gets my lasting vote

143 ~Kathryn 

Jenn Dibble Mother's Day


What would we do without a mom
Who loves us oh-so-much?
She combs our hair and makes our beds
And fixes us our lunch.
We need her even more right now
Since Daddy isn’t here.
He’s off to “school” and then Iraq
But for us there’s no fear
Cause Mommy’s hugs and kisses
Are warm and full of love
And she and Dad teach us great faith
In Father up above.
Oh, Mommy how we love you
And hope that you will know
You’re ‘portant to us little ones
As we learn and play and grow.

We love you, Mommy!!!

Lizzie and Alex

In Time


To everything there is a season
A time to dream, a time to pray
A time to learn and store up wisdom
A time to meet, and smile, and love
A time to bond, a time to grow
A time to conceive, a time to bare,
To nourish, cheer, and praise
A time to reprimand for choices wrong
To kiss skinned knees and to rhymes give song
A time to let your children go
To pray for them, a time to feel their pain.
A time for dark manes, a time for gray
A time for health, for strengthened bones
A time for pain, a time to groan.
A time to weaken, fall on knees,
A time of need, a time to lean,
A time to bend as willows, low,
And on your life reflect
A time to slow, to sit, to think,
A time to breath once more,
A time to bury earthly life
A time to hasten home.

                          ~by Kathryn May Chapman

Healed and Home at Last


2006 Written for Amy and Jeff Bell after their oldest son, Joseph, died of brain cancer.  Valley Forge Ward, PA.

A sweet, small boy runs strong and free
Through fields and puddles and round the trees.
In his hands he gathers leaves
And rocks and sticks and crawly things.
His laughter's heard all round the place
And smiles are broad upon his face.
The legs, once weak, now quick and limber,
Carry him through grass and timber.
Two feeble arms and hands so thin,
Now perched up underneath his chin,
Are plump and pink and move with ease.
He's happy now, it's plain to see.
But as he sits and thinks a bit,
He sees his house and misses it.
Just then a big, strong hand he feels--
The hand that carries, mends and heals
All little boys and girls
That suffer while they're in the world.
A hand once weary like his own
That brought him here.
He's finally home.  

                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

To Our Nana


May 2004

To our Nana far away
Up in the mountain tops
The one who’s got that pinchy bug
And lives with Grandpa “Pops”

We want to say we love you
And wish that you were near
We had you only two short weeks
But loved having you here!

Our Mom is getting better
Since Elisa May was born
But since you are so far away
We’re all a bit forlorn

So, turn and ask our Grandpa
If, for us, he’ll give a hug
And know that we are thinking of
That sneaky pinchy bug.

Happy [Grand] Mother’s Day

Love,

Joshua, Anna, & Elisa

Girls Camp


We sit around the fire
As camp comes to an end,
Our noses burnt, our muscles sore,
Yet still smiles each dear friend.
We’ve run away from spiders
We’ve painted hands and feet.
We’ve hiked and played and chanted
And eaten every treat.
The mountains all around us
Wind rustly through the trees
Remind us of His arms of love
And bring us to our knees.
Our friendships we have strengthened
Our testimonies glow
As our dear Savior’s Spirit’s here
And Him we’ve come to know.
Let us never wonder
Nor let our hearts forget
The sisterhood that we have built
And goals that we have set
Our Heavenly Father knows you
He loves you—every one.
Come unto Him in times of need
And lean upon His Son.
                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

From Number Twelve


Some say a bakers dozen
Is far more than enough
There isn’t room for all of them
Let alone, all their stuff.

But two big hearted people
With love enough to spare
Took the world’s opinions
And tossed them in the air.

A widow from Alaska
Toting daughter, babe, and son
Met widower from Utah
And knew widow days were done.

To hers they added his son
And his three daughters too
Then within not many years
Four more sons joined the crew.

Eleven children, Holy Cow!
How did they do it all?
How did they keep them clothed and fed?
“Enough!” the world would call.

Now, here’s where the world’s opinion,
The pressures and the stress,
Could have changed it all for me
As it could for all the rest.




You see, I’m baby number twelve,
The second last in line,
So grateful that within their hearts
Some extra love did shine.

Two more girls they welcomed,
Me, and Baby Sis,
Into their house of Mayhem
To grow with all the rest.

So, was our household perfect?
Did they give us everything?
Well, they taught us how to work and share,
To love and laugh and sing.

Most times our clothes were hand-me-downs
That Mom had patched or sewn
And our meat and fruit and vegetables
Often raised and cooked at home.

Were their parenting skills perfected
To match this motley crew?
Or maybe we should ask ourselves,
How did they make it through?

Okay, it wasn’t perfect. 
We had our share of fights
And Mother cried herself to sleep
On far too many nights.




But what should they do different,
If it could be done again?
Would life have been much better
With only eight or nine or ten?

With all my heart I thank them
For the choices that they made,
For the brothers and the sisters
To each of us they gave.

Each one of us so different
Unique in every way,
Short and tall, blonde, brunette
Eyes brown, blue, greenish gray.

We have one sis who beat us all
In the race to earn her wings
And thoughts of her help us recall
How short lived are worldly things.

Could we really spare another?
Would our lives still be as rich,
If for a life of ease and wealth
Mom or Dad had bailed this ship?

The greatest gifts they’ve given us,
Besides our faith in God,
Are brothers, sisters, every one,
The evens and the odds J.

Sister, Number One,
And brother, Number Two
Your leadership has taught us much
And helped us muddle through.


Number Three we miss you.
Number Four, big teddy bear,
So close in age and kindness
To Five’s graceful, loving care.

Six, is oh-so stubborn
But also soft in heart,
Not unlike Seven’s acts of love
And hand sewn works of art.

Brother, Number Eight,
His size deceives a few
Cause underneath there lies a heart
That’s gold and strong and true.

Our other brother in the line,
Nine’s known for artful pen
He shares appreciation for
The music played by Ten.

Eleven, tall and thoughtful,
Is witty, there’s no doubt.
Skip over me to Thirteen
Whom we couldn’t live without.

So, really when all’s said and done
Is thirteen still too much?
**As Dad says, “Too much talking.
Sit down and eat your lunch.”

**With all our strengths and weakness
    It’s just the perfect bunch.
                (alternate ending)

                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

First Day of School



 It’s the first day of school and the bus is near
And on Mommy’s cheek he sees a big tear.
“It’s okay, Mom,” says this oldest son.
He can’t wait to go, he’s ready to run.
She squeezes him tight and gives him a kiss
Then lets him jump on so his bus he won’t miss.

Twelve years fly by like the breeze in the night
And now off to college, he’s catching his flight
A mission comes next and a wife he has won
A Bachelor’s degree and big blue eyed son.
Two little girls come pretty quick
And he thinks to himself, “My life is plain slick!”

But plans have been made and plans he must keep
Even if this involves losing his sleep.
The GMAT is taken—time and again
Essays are written, re-written, and then
After all that hard work the happy reply
To the south he’ll be going with “Tar” in his eyes

It’s the first day of school and the bus is near
On his Sweetheart’s cheek he sees a big tear.
“We finally made it,” he says with a smile

But waityou better be startin’ with STYLE
So, here’s some new pants, shirts, and some socks
I’ve tucked them with love right here in this box!

I love you, Juan Paco!!!

K8E
143


Easter Thoughts



Babies are sent down to us one by one
From our Father in Heaven and His Home they come

We love them and teach them and show them the way
To live out their lives and return Home some day

But there is only one Door through which they can go
To those Heavenly realms from this Earth down below
Some pass through the Door after just a few years
And teir families they leave with their hearts full of tears

But it is to our Savior’s sweet arms that they come
When they say their goodbyes and through that Door they run

For He is One that passed through The Door
And then back to Earth He entered once more

Our children, each one, through The Door they will go
Our parents, our siblings, and ourselves, this we know

But the door is not locked.  The key has been turned
Death’s grasp has been broken and its walls have been burned

Resurrection will come for the weak and the small
For the old and the young, for the short and the tall

It is on Easter Morning we think of the babes
Who’s names have been written on headstones of graves

He knows them.  He loves them.  He keeps them.  And then…
To their families He will return them again.

                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

Dad 2011


There are a few words I could write
On this here Father’s Day. 
Words that might describe our dad.
So many things to say.

He’s quite a piece of our work, our Dad.
He’s one amazing critter.
Farmer, Salesman, Trucker, Boss,
He’s surely not a quitter.

He whips the young bucks on the court
His hook shots make you wonder.
He takes the hills on snow machines,
He’s not too old, by thunder!

He’s had rough edges through the years,
But they are smoothing out.
His love comes shining through for us
Of that we have no doubt.

He can take on any challenge
With hammer, nail, and glue
If he just puts his mind to it
There’s nothing he can’t do

He’s taught us self reliance
And faith and trust in God.
And when life knocks you down a bit
Get up and beat the odds.

His life has been devoted
To family and to wife
We’ve seen in his example
The gift of sacrifice.

And now as he gets older
And we think of all he’s done
We thank him for the care he’s giv’n
For each daughter and each son

                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

Cynthia


Cynthia, a dear old friend
Of the sister we once knew
As you go through that parting veil
A request I have of you.

I was so young when last I saw
My sister’s loving face
And felt her arms around me
And watched her gentle grace

You were one who loved her too
So I thought you wouldn’t mind…
Hug her, kiss her, and tell her that
We’ll be seeing her in time.

Love,
The Mays

Blessing Day


Tomorrow you will grow and love and marry.
Struggles, joys, ups and downs
Will all be yours.
But tonight the world is held at bay
As I marvel at your first laugh,
Your fingers round my thumb,
And the love in my heart.
                         ~by Kathryn May Chapman

Bennett


I see my Mommy’s teary eyes and Daddy’s head bowed down
And look at all the children and the grown ups in my town.
I know that you’re all sad and cry a lot since I’ve been gone
But I also see my Mommy smile and hear my Daddy’s song.

I’m thankful you were there for me and loved me with such care
I know you miss the laughs and hugs and kisses that we shared.
But you smile now because you know I have great work to do
And I can count on you to come and join me when you’re through. 

I have my Elder Brother here who helps in every way.
It’s Him that brought me here from Earth, seems just the other day.
He says He will watch over those I love and left below
Until we’re back together. He’ll take care of you, I know.

It’s okay to shed a tear or two when you are sad.
I do the same when I think of my loving Mom and Dad,
But then I am reminded of God’s plan for everyone…
Through Him I’ll ever love you and will always be your son.

Kathryn May Chapman, Feb 2011





I’m Thinking of You

I see my Mommy’s teary eyes and Daddy’s head bowed down
And look at all the children and the grown ups in my town.
I know that you’re all sad and cry a lot since I’ve been gone
But I also see my Mommy smile and hear my Daddy’s song.

I’m thankful you were there for me and loved me with such care
I know you miss the laughs and hugs and kisses that we shared.
But you smile now because you know I have great work to do
And I can count on you to come and join me when you’re through. 

I have my Elder Brother here who helps in every way.
It’s Him that brought me here from Earth, seems just the other day.
He says He will watch over those I love and left below
Until we’re back together. He’ll take care of you, I know.

It’s okay to shed a tear or two when you are sad.
I do the same when I think of my loving Mom and Dad,
But then I am reminded of God’s plan for all the world…
Through Him I’ll ever love you and will always be your girl.

Kathryn May Chapman, Feb 2011

Bearing the Hearts of His Warriors


11/16/2011
 In time bones grow old.
In time bodies are worn.
Constant pain replaces strength.

When aged hearts hang low,
Our Savior, from His heaven,
Comes to gather close His Warriors—

The Gray-Haired Champions.

He holds the heavy hearts,
Once young and strong.
He holds them close
And cries.

“You’ve given all I asked, and more.
You’ve lived your life for me.”

“We are close, you and I.
We’ll bear this together as we always have.”