Once we had the measles,
my older sis and I.
I look back fondly on this time,
and think that I know why.
We shared a room together.
We shared our misery.
It felt so good to be so close
(as sisters ought to be).
Our beds were close together
(a nightstand in between).
We had a record player,
with records (some umpteen).
My sister kept us busy
with entertaining stuff.
She gave me some attention —
I could not get enough.
And every day when we awoke,
she’d look at me and say,
“I hope you’re feeling better.
What would you like to play?”
She always had fun things to do
while we were in our beds.
We’d pretend they’re boats or trains,
or carriages or sleds.
We’d listen to our records:
“Babes in Toyland,” “Peter Pan,”
and pretend that we were there –
this was my sister’s plan.
Our mother brought us toast with tea
(my favorite when I’m sick)
She read to us our favorite books –
she always let us pick.
Sometimes our mom would let us
leave our room to watch T.V.
She knew the change would do us good,
and boy, did we agree.
Then after, we’d discover
Mom completely cleaned our room.
The sheets would now be soft and clean;
and waft a fresh perfume.
My recollection of this time
is oddly very sweet.
Though I would be the first to say,
it must be incomplete.
Although I’m sure the measles
must be difficult at best,
my memories leave me feeling
very cared for, loved, and blessed.

Marie Elena


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