Loading...
Loading...
Click here if you don’t see subscription options
Mary OliverSeptember 25, 2006

Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you. Under the sink, for example, is an
uproar of mice it is the season of their
many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves
and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances but it is the season
when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling
in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will
come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.

Comments are automatically closed two weeks after an article's initial publication. See our comments policy for more.
18 years 6 months ago
Twice now during the past week, a squirrel has eaten away parts of my windowsill and gnawed four-inch holes in the screen to facilitate its entry to my house.

Yes, I have read with appreciation Mary Oliver’s poem “Making the House Ready for the Lord” (9/25). “Come in, come in,” she says to animals seeking shelter as winter dawns on a snowy world.

And what is my response? Unlike the poet, I have for God’s creatures who live out there in my yard a lesser and imperfect love that stops upon my doorstep. Beyond that boundary I offer a crust of last night’s pizza, nuts and suet, apples, whole wheat bread crumbs. To these you are welcome. Help yourself, I say, but keep your distance. This house is mine. For the limits to my hospitality, may the Lord forgive me.

And another thing: Stop digging up my daffodils.

18 years 6 months ago
Twice now during the past week, a squirrel has eaten away parts of my windowsill and gnawed four-inch holes in the screen to facilitate its entry to my house.

Yes, I have read with appreciation Mary Oliver’s poem “Making the House Ready for the Lord” (9/25). “Come in, come in,” she says to animals seeking shelter as winter dawns on a snowy world.

And what is my response? Unlike the poet, I have for God’s creatures who live out there in my yard a lesser and imperfect love that stops upon my doorstep. Beyond that boundary I offer a crust of last night’s pizza, nuts and suet, apples, whole wheat bread crumbs. To these you are welcome. Help yourself, I say, but keep your distance. This house is mine. For the limits to my hospitality, may the Lord forgive me.

And another thing: Stop digging up my daffodils.

The latest from america

Predicting when the smoke will rise from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel is not an exact science.
St. Óscar Romero's spiritual convictions on the resurrection can be categorized in four ways. First, resurrection is an act and fruit of the Spirit, even now; second, resurrection is a communal, historical reality; third, resurrection is a process of ongoing conversion; and fourth, resurrection is
Matthew AshleyApril 28, 2025
Italian media reports this afternoon that Cardinal Angelo Becciu, who was stripped of his cardinal privileges and convicted for embezzlement, will not vote in the papal conclave, despite his efforts to appeal the conviction.
Colleen DulleApril 28, 2025
A conclave to elect a successor to Pope Francis will begin on Wednesday, May 7, the Vatican announced Monday.