Sandra Rippetoe © 2020

There once was a girl who lived at the base
of a very tall lighthouse. Her name was Grace.

She was kindhearted. She always listened.
When she heard a sad story, tears in her eyes glistened.

She wished for healing and positive moods,
for people to get well with their health renewed.

No one knows when and no one knows why –
Grace ran to the top of the lighthouse to cry.

And in her hand, a dandelion puff . . .
she’d carry it with her when she’d heard enough.

Nearly out of breath when she got to the top,
she’d ponder the suffering she wished could be stopped.

She’d take in the beauty, the shades of calm blue,
from ocean to sky, such a peaceful view.

She’d gently blow seeds from the dandelion stalk,
speak heartfelt wishes, then down the steps she’d walk.

Soon her caring ways were known all around.
Each person shared problems. Grace ran up, then down.

People felt better yet were curious to know –
in the ocean of fishes, where did all those seeds go?

Although that’s a mystery, she kept up the pace.
For many long years, people said, “Go tell Grace.
She’ll listen intently . . . offer comfort for pain.
She’ll respond with kind words, not rudeness or blame.”

Grace would say, “Very soon, I hope you’ll be well.
I believe you can heal. I can just tell.”

Then up the lighthouse stairs quickly she’d run
with dandelion in hand but she wasn’t done

till she blew tiny seeds out toward the ocean.
Perhaps just the fishes understood her notion.

And so the years went by. Grace, herself, grew old.
Her climb to the top slowed. To the handrails she’d hold.

One unfortunate day, Grace became ill and went to bed.
I’ll tell you what happened, but don’t ask me who said.

Every person and pet showed up at her place
with dandelion puffs to make wishes for Grace.

At the tall lighthouse, in each person filed,
walking up those steps, every man, woman, and child.

When they got to the top, they saw ocean and trees.
They thought of dear Grace. They turned toward the sea.

They blew tiny seeds and fought back their tears.
They wished for her health and an end to her fears.

“You’ll recover,” they said. “Your time’s not up yet.
We know you’re strong. Please don’t worry or fret.
And on top of all that, your heart’s made of gold.
You’ve been here for us – our gratitude’s untold.”

It happened so fast. People’s wishes came true.
Grace fully recovered. Her treks started anew. 

Goodwill and kindness, like dandelion wishes,
come from the heart and flow like the fishes.