My Excellent Wife

An excellent wife, I have found!

She is far more precious than shares in Apple or downtown Calgary real estate.

 

My heart does trust in her,

and I have had no lack of children.

 

She has done me good, and not harm,

all the 3571 days of our marriage.

 

She seeks yarn for loom-knitting,

and changes diapers with willing hands.

 

She is like the choo choo trains;

she brings us her hekka and tacos from afar.

 

She rises while it is yet night

and provides countless bottles of milk for her babies
and dry bums for her twins.

 

She considers a piece of furniture on Kijiji and buys it;

with the seeds she selects at Canadian Tire, she plants a garden.

 

She dresses herself with strength,

and makes her arms tough with repetitive lifting of small children.

 

She perceives that her Value Village transactions are profitable;

her washing machine and dryer do not cease at night.

 

She puts her hands to the ball of yarn,

and her hands hold the pink plastic knitting loom.

 

She opens her arms to the poor baby whose twin just beat her over the head,

and reaches out her hands to the toddler in need of a snack.

 

She is not afraid of snow for her household,

for all her household are clothed in skipants and parkas and hats and gloves and boots.

 

She makes warm tuques for herself;

her clothing is fine knitting.

 

Her husband is known in the labyrinthine bowels of the church

when he sits on Thursday nights in a drab, windowless office among the elders of Calvary Grace.

 

She makes knit garments and gives them away;

she delivers hats to glad family members and friends.

 

Strength and dignity are her clothing,

which is good not only because she has more than enough laundry to do.

 

She opens her mouth with wisdom,

and the teaching of kindness and Bible and Language Arts and Math and Social Studies and History and Art and Health and Physical Education is on her tongue.

 

She looks well to the ways of her household,

and does not eat the bread of idleness (or even breakfast, if I don’t remind her).

 

Her children rise up and call her “the best Mommy ever,” for she is;

as do I also, and I praise her:

 

“Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all.”

 

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,

but a woman who fears the Lord—like Erin—is to be praised.

 

Let her have a well-earned rest,

and let her works praise her on Facebook and Twitter…

 

(Happy Valentine’s Day, Erin. My apologies to King Lemuel)

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