Welcome to our home on the web! We are Stephen, Marcia, Nicole, Meghan, Kayla, Angel
Sonja, Christina, Emily and Angel Tanner. We are a biological, doptive, and foster family. We are all the parents of
Sally, our 9 year old puppy,our new Doodle puppy, Gracie, and our 3 guinea pigs.
We run an after school group at our church. It's called Trinity Tweens. We're
an outreach group, and our meetings are focused on making cards and gifts for people who could use some support. Check
us out...
Please visit our pages to learn all about us, and say "hi" in our guestbook. Thanks!
WE ARE SEVEN
A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage girl:
She was eight years
old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
And
she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;—
Her beauty made me glad.
“Sisters and brothers,
little maid,
How many may you be?”
“ How many? Seven in all,” she said,
And wondering looked at
me.
"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two
are gone to sea;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And in the churchyard cottage I
Dwell
near them with my mother.”
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven! I
pray you tell,
Sweet maid, how this may be?"
Then did the little maid reply:
“ Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree.”
“You run about, my little maid,
Your
limbs they are alive;
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five.”
“Their graves are green,
they may be seen,”
The little maid replied,
“ Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are
side by side.”
“My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground
I sit-
I sit and sing to them.”
"And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little
porringer,
And eat my supper there.”
“The first that died was little Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till
God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.”
“So in the churchyard she was laid;
And when
the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we play'd,
My brother John and I.”
“And when the ground
was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side.”
“How
many are you, then, said I,
If they two are in Heaven?"
The little maiden did reply,
“Oh, master, we are seven!”
“But
they are dead-those two are dead,
Their spirits are in Heaven!”
'Twas throwing words away, for still
The
little maid would have her will,
And said, “Nay, we are seven!”
- William Wordsworth
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