Harlan's Song

I have a niece I share a special bond with as we share the same birthday. She is exactly 20 years younger than I am.  Her name is Dr. Bette Bergeron and she has accomplished a lot in her lifetime.

Bette has a Doctorate in Education and presently is Dean of Education at Southern Illinois University. She is also an accomplished writer like her aunt. She writes beautiful poetry and we all wait anxiously for her Christmas poem every year. If we have a death in the family that year, she will dedicate her poem to that person.

Her father, my brother, Harlan, died in 2006. He would have been 76 on September 30. She dedicated her poem to him that year. Although this is a Christmas poem, I’d like to share it with you. He was a watercolorist and won many awards at the Lobster Festival for his work. The Thomaston Library had an exhibit of his work this year. Please see the archives for March, 2011, “Harlan Sylvester’s Art Exhibit at Thomaston Library—Guest Blog—Brian Sylvester” (Harlan was his great-uncle) to see samples of his work.

The watercolor I include here was one of his ocean pictures. The masthead of this blog also features one of his paintings, done when he was just 16, down on Mcloud Street. I also use that picture as wallpaper on my computer so that I can remember him every time I turn on my computer.

Here’s Bette’s poem for 2006:

Dr. Bette Bergeron

Christmas Canvas

Christmas is a canvas

            Of brilliant, shining hues,

Painted by an Artist

            In greens and vibrant blues.

A Master is the craftsman,

            That traces in the sky

A star of proclamation,

            Where hope and promise lie.

The greens of Christmas holly

            And yellow candlelight,

Blend with anticipation,

            In angel’s purest white.

This canvas is a portrait

            Of simple gifts of faith;

Of families sharing wonder,

            In prayers of joy and grace.

A father stretches canvas

            To hold his family safe;

It warms the coldest winter,

            And brightens Christmas day.

The father’s Christmas canvas

            Paints trees of deepest green,

With scents of pine and snowflakes,

            And daughters’ wistful dreams.

                        Tonight the father’s canvas

                                    Is traced in velvet black,

                        With sparks of golden starlight

                                    That celebrate the past.

                        Tomorrow’s Christmas canvas

                                    Will leave a tender mark,

                        As the Artist and a father

                                    Paint love within our hearts.

Bette, you have done your father proud.

Thanks for listening.