A Poem by Hattie Bagley Maughan

Bethany Hattie's maternal Great-Grandmother

The Covered Bridge

(Written in 1953, when Hattie and J. Howard Maughan were serving as the Mission President and Companion of the New England Mission, which included all of what is now Bethany's mission, plus Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusettes, and the Maritime Provences of Canada.)

We came upon it suddenly.

I cried, "Stop, I want a picture!"

It's such a lovely bridge,

So much New England,

Quaint and alone, atypical."

He kindly paused, although we were 

Arush with meetings, a heavy schedule.

"It is a beauty spot," he said,

"But much too lonely; needs the human touch.

You stand beyond."

I walked the weathered planks

Where coutless horses hooves had trod.

The covering above was turned a silver grey,

Hoary with age, and sun and water,

Shadowy dark within its shelter.

I stood beyond -- the shutter snapped,

And we were on our way again;

But dear, nostalgic memories 

That picture now recalls

Of winding Vermond roads;

Of fiddle-heads plucked

Beside the bridge,

Where mountain loam

And many rains brought forth

The succulent greens.

Many bridges have we crossed,

Perhaps a few we've built

To span the gaps of prejudice.

And ignorance and fear.

Not made of planks or hand-hewn logs,

But smiles and hand-clasp,

Mingled tears and love.

It may be that Bethany will cross some of those bridges that her great-grandparents built during their years in New England with smiles and hand-clasps, with tears and love.