Small Joys

Call me Betsy Ross,

my real name is Elizabeth.

I stitch my days together

with calm hands and patient thread.

If you want,

I’ll sew you a flag—

like once before, remember?

Not for war,

but for home.

They compare me to history,

to names carved in stone.

But I am just Betsy—

real, breathing,

learning to stand.

Recently, in Chișinău,

I bought two books.

Two beautiful encyclopedias.

I read them slowly.

I am curious again.

I cross to Romania for Sinsay,

bought myself a warm coat.

Ordered a power bank—

because light matters

when you’re building a future.

I’m going to learn sewing.

What else could I do?

Hands need work,

dreams need skill.

A college waits for me—

Saint John the Baptist.

My mother doubts.

I don’t.

I believe in God.

Quietly.

Like I believe in mornings,

in fabric,

in small joys

that keep a heart alive.