Jean Conder was born in Brookline, Massachusetts in 1919. She married George Soule, who she met through her work at the press bureau. They got married, had three children, and lived in Springfield, Pennsylvania, according to her biography on Loganberry Books's website.
Her other well-known works include a poem about flying a kite and the lyrics to a religious song. The poem is called "For Keeps," and seems to be taught in elementary schools. The song is called "Take Up the Cross."
Other than "Never Tease a Weasel," and "Take Up the Cross," her poetry seems to have been forgotten - it's only available in out-of-print antique books and in dark and dusty corners of the internet.
My aunt found a copy of one which had been printed in a c. 1950's edition of the Episcopal Diocese of South Florida newsletter. The poem is titled, "A Mother's Prayer."
Is this my son, this solemn lad,
White cotta hiding a shirt of plaid?
How tall he looks! How straight he stands!
But if you watch, you will see his hands
Betray his awe, his small-boy-fright
Not yet at ease with the candle-light.
White cotta hiding a shirt of plaid?
How tall he looks! How straight he stands!
But if you watch, you will see his hands
Betray his awe, his small-boy-fright
Not yet at ease with the candle-light.
The service begins, There is nothing to fear
(The familiar words seem strangely dear)
He remembers his cues: to kneel, to pray,
To bow his head in a reverent way.
The priest and server prepare the bread;
The wine is poured and prayers are said.
(I thank you, God, for your help unfailing -
He didn't forget to close the railing!)
(The familiar words seem strangely dear)
He remembers his cues: to kneel, to pray,
To bow his head in a reverent way.
The priest and server prepare the bread;
The wine is poured and prayers are said.
(I thank you, God, for your help unfailing -
He didn't forget to close the railing!)
I wait and watch with misted eyes
As he takes his Communion, then I rise.
But before I receive my wafer and wine
I offer a prayer to the Source Divine,
Which gives me the privilege, the infinite joy,
Of sharing with You, one small cassocked boy!
As he takes his Communion, then I rise.
But before I receive my wafer and wine
I offer a prayer to the Source Divine,
Which gives me the privilege, the infinite joy,
Of sharing with You, one small cassocked boy!
I found another poem in one of those dark, dusty, internet corners - the internet Archives. This was printed in a 1957 edition of "Lighted Pathways," a Church of God publication. The poem is titled, "Tree-Rocket."
"It looks just like my maple tree, Athough it's full of boys, Their raucous shouts and laughter Fill the afternoon with noise. "I thought it was my maple tree; But maybe I was wrong. Here comes the local Atom-Squad — Full half a dozen strong! "Upon a branch, Space-Rangers lurk; And there, atop my tree, Resplendent in a worn-out sheet, A superman I see! "Good-by, my little maple tree, Be ready to journey soon! Flight X is leaving Earth Base now For blast-off to the moon!"Jean Conder Soule died in 2008. I wish more of her poetry was available publicly. I wish I had gotten to know her sooner. Maybe I'll get lucky, and someone will publish an anthology of her works.
