TOOLBOXES AND TOENAILS

Toenails and Toolboxes

From toolbox to toenails, a life measured in hands, Worn brass and softened leather, calluses earned by plans. We sharpened our talents on benches and blacktops,

Built schools, planted gardens, threaded years like clocks.

We prospered, we stumbled, we laughed, and we cried, 

Packed triumphs and lessons and set them aside. Now at Merrill Gardens we gather each day, Not idle, not finished,  just resting our way.

Our laurels sit folded, their ribbons unfrayed, 

But a small, stubborn task leaves us oddly afraid: The reach of a lifetime has shortened with time, And those tiny chores now feel like a mountain climb.

Where are the helpers for the simplest of needs? Who will trim edges of long-lived deeds? We call for a hand, not pity, not scorn,  Just someone to care for the soles we have worn.

We were builders and teachers, bakers and friends; Our stories still hum where the sunlight extends. Listen: a whisper, a laugh, a request “I’m not ready to go, I just need a rest.”

So bring us your patience, your steady, kind grace, A manicure of kindness, a careful, safe place. Honor the toolbox with gloves and a smile. Share time, share skill; stay with us a while.

For dignity lives in the small, tender acts: A trimmed nail, a chat, a moment intact. From toolbox to toenails, the arc is the same, 

We gave of our lives; now answer our name.