Kept: a poem by Ming San Hah
Kept
dedicated to my grandmother
When my heart aches
remembering her blood-stained
veins, tubes, and IV bags,
Christ is my comfort.
When I miss her look
of delight, her speaking
my name, the crinkles of her smile,
Christ is my comfort.
When I yearn for her,
crossed over to that far-off land,
where I cannot reach her,
Christ is my comfort.
Christ, conqueror, your sole on
Death's chest, I worship you.
In quest of you we journey
from the earthly to the heavenly.
God shall soothe our sorrows,
there joy has banished pain.
Then we shall behold
you face to face.
O God, I give you
my beloved; would you keep her for me?
You gave me her for a term;
I give her back to you.
_________________________
Ming San Hah loves children and has been a missionary in Hong Kong for over
twenty years through teaching English informed by social work. In recent years
she has discovered poetry, which she writes for catharsis and as a means of
sharing God's comfort with others.
(August 2026 issue)
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