Poem about a stranger's kindness to me

The Stuck Zipper

By Janet Sobczyk, 2025

This poem of mine was published in the Summer 2025 edition of "Screamin Mamas" magazine. I love the full-page image they came up with for it! The white-outlined-with-black font is beautiful in print but hard to read from this pic. It's below in a font that's easier to read online.

In a new red coat

I stood out in any crowd

maybe that's why she noticed

my bent-over struggle to line ends up

fit floppy teeth into a stubborn slider

fingers fumbling

with a Band-aid on my sore thumb.

She came to my side and asked,

"Do you need help?"

I straightened up

looked into her kind eyes

dropped defeated hands to my side

and whined like a child

"I can't zip my coat."

She immediately bent over

grabbed red coat flaps

started her own struggle

saying, "This is hard."

But then... success!

and with a broad smile 

she zipped it all the way up

as I thought, "Don't zip my neck!"

I stood there amazed

at her jovial presence

her unhesitating helpfulness

her confidence to approach a stranger

and offer up-close assistance

all I could do was laugh at the situation

thank her sincerely

and chuckle all the way to my car.

Poem published in YCN, Nov. 2024

Worker Bee

By Janet Sobczyk, 2024

Small patch of wild daisies

still blooming in late September

amidst straggly weeds

beside walkway behind retreat center,

 

I pause to focus on their beauty

examine fragile white petals

appreciate their hardiness

in the chill of autumn.

 

Calmly notice a bumblebee

settled on one, quietly sipping

I recall that as a girl

it would have frightened me away!

 

But today I can linger

try not to disturb it

content to stay, the bee and I

for a brief moment.

 

Fall’s cool air surrounds us

thoughts of leaving the retreat

returning to work

swirl and distract me.

 

The phrase “busy as a bee”

comes to mind so I pause

look again, does it seem hurried?

no, its movements are steady, deliberate.

 

The retreat had questioned

how do you see your work?

maybe as a burden, or a calling

but can you see it as a gift?

 

I wonder, a bit inanely

how does that bee see its work?

what it does is pure instinct

just doing what needs to be done.

 

How much of life is spent that way?

just maintaining, surviving,

without much thought

or pause for reflection.

 

But today I’m taking a pause

today I’m watching a bee

like a child, in the moment

feeling blessed by this tiny gift…

and grateful for the gift of work.

With gratitude to those who facilitated the retreat for DRE's in Omaha in September:
Jodi Phillips, Deacon Omar Gutierrez, and Jim Jansen.

Click here to view Your Country Neighbor, Nov. 2024

 

Poem published in YCN, August 2024

Catch and Release
By Janet Sobczyk, 2024

“Hey, Pete!
Come catch this tiny moth in the bathroom
quick, right there on the wall
wait! where’d it go?”
 
His quick eyes scanned the room
soon found the Common Tan Wave
uncommonly small, wings folded
 trying to blend into a cream wall.
 
I backed away
to let him stalk the prey
knowing it would be safe in his young hands
certain my clumsy ones would damage wings.
 
Held the door open for his exit outdoors
watched as he slowly released curved fingers
expecting a fast flutter to escape
but it didn’t.
 
I moved up close to join Pete’s gaze
upon this tiny visitor
as it gently stepped along his finger
to the tip and paused.
 
Seemed to be probing his skin
with its almost invisible feet
was it tapping out a thank-you
like a silent Morse-code?
 
Or (more likely)
smelling the apple Pete had been slicing?
In a moment it gracefully lifted off
flitting across the deck.
  
We went back inside smiling
back to the morning routine
pleased to do a good thing
for a common little creature.

Dedicated to Peter Sobczyk, my son, 

and to Stephen Hassler, editor of YCN, whose shared love of butterflies inspired it.

Click here to view Your Country Neighbor's Aug. 2024 publication

.

Poem published in "Trails" Newsletter

 

It's unusual for a poem to be published in a newsletter (since it isn't news) 

but this one seemed just right for the Trails Newsletter for librarians. 

Thanks, Chelsea Morlan, for including it! 

Click here to see the Feb. 2024 Three Rivers Library System Newsletter online.

My poem and letter-to-editor published in The Jewish Press

 

This article called, "My Friend Rabbi Maximo" by Howard Kutler 

appeared in The Jewish Press on December 8, 2023.

Rabbi Maximo is my neighbor and he proudly showed it to me. 

It began on the front page and continued for half of an inside page. 

Very nice!

Click here to see Kutler's article online The Jewish Press, 12-8-23

I replied to the editor, Annette van de Kamp-Wright about it 

and she published my letter and poem on Dec. 29, 2023. 

Rabbi Maximo was so pleased! 

I had given this poem to him and his wife, Jeanne, about 3 years ago 

and he urged me to get it published. 

I'm glad we found a good space to share it.

Awakening

By Janet Sobczyk

This Catholic stayed in small Christian groups

values and traditions seldom challenged

comfortable sharing faith

while agreeing with one another.

A summer move changed perspective

brought into view a synagogue, new neighbors

an elderly Rabbi, his kind wife with small dog

quietly living their faith.

Friendly waves 

conversations by the mailbox

Rabbi's warmth, gentle advice, hearty hello's

led to learning about their faith.

One cold morning garbage truck roared by me

coat over pj's, dragging cans too late

"Bring 'em over here, truck circles back for our side,"

offered Rabbi. I smiled.

Another day on drive home

my husband saw Rabbi walking alone

when offered a ride, politely declined

"No, thank you, it's the Sabbath."

My own awkward gesture

a plate of plain, round cookies in December

wife's delighted response: "Christmas cookies!

I haven't had these in ages."

Her reaction settled insecurities

sparked curiosity and conversation

misconceptions gently nudged into

understanding.

Next December Rabbi came

with store-bought Santa cookies

explained kosher foods

answered many questions with good humor.

In the spring their basement flooded

not by seasonal rains, by an unseen hand

outside faucet turned on in the night

"We've been targeted before," Rabbi sighed.

Random mischief or persecution?

Only God knows

I ponder the meaning of discrimination

and search my own soul.

Dedicated to Maximo and Jeanne (blessed memory), who've taught me so much.

Click here to see the letter and poem online The Jewish Press, 12-29-23

"Labyrinth" published in YCN Sept. '22

Labyrinth
by Janet Sobczyk, 2022

This summer a quiet call beckoned 
not through sound waves and ear canals 
but thought waves that ebb and flow 
returned to mind again and again 
took shape, grasped my hand 
led to parents’ hometown 
a familiar place 
I hadn’t seen in years. 

Almost forgot the way 
scenic route with small towns 
strung along the highway 
missed the billboard declaring 
“Welcome to Norfolk, NE 
home of Johnny Carson!” 
didn’t stop by his museum 
instead drove through city parks. 

Recalled taking turns to climb timidly (no- bravely!) 
up tall ladders to slide down hot metal 
flying on black-seated swings 
holding tightly to the chains 
trying not to kick a hapless child 
then jumping off and landing, mostly on feet, laughing 
all replaced by now with colorful, safe, plastic 
designed to attract children… where are they? 

Drove past grandparents’ houses 
updated, freshly painted 
wisps of memories teased each window pane 
mind’s eyes pressed with cupped hands to the glass 
watching Grandma baking 
little me licking a spoon 
or spinning in a swivel rocker 
to induce dizziness and giggles. 

Drove to the cemetery 
drawn to the spot, walked 
through dry brown grass in need of rain 
to touch parents’ name plates once again 
gaze at uncle’s headstone 
knowing I’m in the generation to go next 
and younger brother has already gone… 
wishing I’d invited my sisters to come along.

Drove to the convent 
across the street from my parents’ old house 
which still has flowers by the porch 
but a different bench upon it 
used to walk the dog with Mom 
from house to convent grounds, strolling 
past rose garden, bubbling fountain, stately trees 
and The Labyrinth. 

Not a maze, no dead ends 
path circles around 
comes to the center 
then leads back the same way 
no getting lost, no need to think 
just focus with prayer 
releasing one’s cares 
reaching the center and resting there. 

A shady place to sit 
inhale peace 
watch bunnies play nearby 
fill up with hope 
rekindle a purpose 
then retrace the path 
leading out into the world 
and take home a new view. 

Reluctant to leave 
drove home in welcome rain 
not knowing when (or if) I’ll return 
but certain it will be waiting 
even if its brick paths 
should overgrow with weeds and grass 
will still entice weary ones 
to make their way to its center.

The entrance

View from the center

In the convent garden... a flower as tall as me!

This poem is dedicated to Sr. Celine and Sr. Hilda, with gratitude for their hospitality at the Immaculata Monastery and Spirituality Center in Norfolk, Nebraska.

Note: my photos weren't published, but I wanted to share them here.

"Uprooted" published in YCN Aug. '22

Uprooted

by Janet Sobczyk, 2022

 Last summer’s geranium survived the winter
 inside near sunny window 
 pink petals delightful
 before bleak snow-gray scene
 separated by glass from the cold
 never dormant, kept blooming.

 At season’s change
 geranium placed on porch
 to breathe fresh air
 feel soft spring rains
 blossoms bigger than ever
 happy to be outside.

 Summer storms brought high winds
 blew pot over, dirt outpoured, roots exposed
 stems and leaves lying helpless
 petals pummeled 
 gentle hands repotted it, hopeful
 and geranium survived, then thrived!

 Another sudden storm brought hail
 uprooted again
 shredded its leaves
 sad, gentle hands set it aright
 barely daring to hope
 and geranium survived, thrived, bloomed again!

 As do we
 upset and flattened by life’s storms
 getting a hand up
 carrying on, time after time
 bearing scars but
 still able to bloom.

 Dedicated to Peter Sobczyk, my son and survivor of many storms.

"Inspiring Interlude" published in YCN Nov. '21

 Inspiring Interlude
by Janet Sobczyk, 2021

 An overnight stay just a half hour away
 close to home but felt good to roam
 a small town with a main street to walk down
 blue and white signs marked its historic times
 an artistic metal fence with sculpted events
 modern buildings mixed with old ones well fixed
 new library and fire house, trucks waiting stationary
 a bar and grill where Husker fans were thrilled.

 After we dined on prime rib and pie it was time
 to enjoy the reason we came, a grand dame
 standing proud on a corner lot, the perfect spot
 to oversee the town’s affairs and be
 a respite for tourists and family to stay a bit.

 Her 4th generation lavished rejuvenation
 saving the best, restoring the rest
 providing gentle care to guests who come unaware
 it’s like sleeping in a museum, keeping
 safe under a quilt dreaming of when she was built
 and how, long ago, they endured freezing cold
 and beastly heat, sheltered by her walls.

 The magnitude of their fortitude makes me feel small
 with our reliance on electricity and technology
 our need for phones, instead they honed
 skills long gone, secrets to survival beyond
 our comprehension, not understanding their apprehension
 about making it through the winter, baking
 the scent of meals and woodstove smoke into her bones.

 New smells helped us wake, tried not to be late
 for a delicious breakfast, listening to others’ ambitious
 plans for the day, when we just wanted to stay
 conversing about the past, gratitude to hosts dispersing.

 

 While cars were packed, on the balcony I sat
 mesmerized by birds, without a word
 contemplating their oasis, so many places
 ‘round a small pond with feeders for eaters
 tiny and shy, sparrows quick to fly
 at the smallest sound, not earthbound
 flit to a fence, appreciating providence.

 Later as we drove on by I thought, so should I. 

With gratitude to Gordon and Linda Mueller, owners of the Oft B and B in Bennington, NE.

Note: my photos weren't published in YCN, but I wanted to share them here.

"Little Janet" published in YCN Oct. '21

"Little Janet"

by Janet Sobczyk, 2021

 I came to live in Omaha on my own when I was 20 and soon found a job at a retail jewelry store. The older co-workers made me feel like I had joined a work-family instead of just a group of co-workers. They helped me feel safer in this “big city.” 

 Working retail often means long hours every weekend with a day off during the week. I managed quick trips to Norfolk to visit my parents about once per month. The first holiday that I couldn’t make it home, one of the sales staff invited me to join her family. She was a single mom raising two sons and the meal would be at her parents’ house. Just the four of them. Perfect! I’m a bit introverted, so small groups help me feel less awkward.

 Her parents were welcoming and funny, and served delicious comfort food. Her sons soon dubbed me “Little Janet.” She explained that they knew another Janet who babysat for them and was larger than me, and they began calling her “Big Janet.” I hoped not to her face!

 At the time I was very slim but have always struggled with a distorted view of my size. With two older, slim sisters I saw myself as the chubby one, even if photos of the three of us revealed I wasn’t. So it was a relief to be dubbed the little one.

 Fast forward through almost 40 years, different jobs, and raising five kids of my own. My tendency to enjoy comfort food had added many pounds. The memory of the nickname, “Little Janet” mocked me, and I wondered if I would always be overweight and tired like my dear Grandma Rose.

 I had hope from the example of my mother, though, who had gone through the same struggle, and in her grandma years lost the extra weight. I wanted the same for myself as a new grandma. I didn’t want to be too tired to enjoy precious time with my grand-daughter.

 That was my motivation last February to begin a journey with a weight loss clinic that my doctor approved. Now I feel much lighter and happier. The journey isn’t over but I enjoy shopping for clothes in a smaller size and not cringing when I look in the mirror.

 Recently I was called a new name that made me smile. A crew of workers was removing our storm-damaged roof and debris lay on the ground. My little dog needed out so I carried her, tip-toeing out the front door and across the grass to avoid nails and shingles. As I set her down on the sidewalk to begin our walk I heard one of the crew call to a worker on the ground. In Spanish he told his pal to clear the path for the “abuelita.” Two things struck me about that sentence: the respect/ concern in his voice, and that he called me a “little grandma.” It made my day!

Janet with new grand-daughter Eleanor, Sept. 2022

A Quiet Walk published in YCN Aug. '21

 A Quiet Walk 

by Janet Sobczyk, 2021

 Step outdoors into an early small-town summer morn
 Old concrete sidewalk merges to brick street
 Patchy yards grow next to well-manicured lawns
 Renovated Victorians stand stately among ranch homes
 Whimsical outdoor art dots the lush landscaping.

 Squirrels plant walnuts and rabbits enjoy garden greens
 Robins snatch worms and bees examine zinnias
 A bicyclist speeds by, slowing at the red sign to look both ways and glide past
 A gray-haired gent putters around yard as wife reads on the porch 
 No breeze disturbs the moment, birdsong fills the air.

 Rounding the block my temporary “home” comes into view 
 Up four steps, upon welcoming porch 
 The smell of bacon wafts through screened door 
 Made not by me, but for me… a rare role-reversal 
 Hospitality and quiet, the perfect combo for renewal. 

Dedicated to Karen and Mark Baker who make the Bakers B&B in Blair, NE, a wonderful retreat.

"Summer Reading" poem published in YCN

 

The table on my deck is a perfect reading spot
sun filters softly through familiar trees
birds twitter, chirp, coo
I settle in and sigh
allow the words to transport my mind. 

A temperate breeze drops a thin vine onto open book
helps the potted plant take a peek
at what’s holding my intent gaze on this page
startled I gently finger the tender young growth, move it aside
then pause to enjoy the sweet mint fragrance clinging onto fingertips. 

The familiar scent takes me back to Grandma’s house
to the mint patch along the side of her paint-peeling old house
it stretched out, growing along the gravel driveway
I’d inhale the scent, then pick through rocks to find white ones
use ‘em like chalk on the concrete walk.

The image elicits a smile
and a twinge of pain at childhood days long gone
then the vine returns
quivers with the slightest movement of air
creeps onto my page again… comforting.

"School Year Flashbacks" published in June YCN

                                   

It’s done 
the relief is real 
summer beckons… but 
before leaving the school year behind 
flashbacks scroll across my mind, a photo gallery: 

Glowing smiles of grads as they remove masks to pose 

Proud families gathered and hugs all around 

Prom held outside, beneath a cloudy sky, twinkle lights and magic holding back rain 

Green shirts on St. Pat’s with snacks and Zoom bingo 

Pink and red valentines, the giggles and blushes of young crushes 

A snowball throwing contest, lined up, arms ready, powdery ammo flies far

Trimming classroom trees with handmade décor, wearing gaudy sweaters 

A turkey feast done differently, classrooms apart, but still delicious 

Halloween costumes with Covid masks 

Walking in autumn air, circling the parking lot for much-needed mask breaks

Labor Day weekend, the first respite for exhausted (already!) teachers and students 

Practicing new rules, cleaning, taking temps, learning how far apart 6 feet should be 

First day jitters amplified by pandemic fears 

It’s done 
this challenging school year is over at last 
looking back, so proud of everyone 
reaching across miles to remote learners, sharing smiles 
facing fears, changing plans, tackling new technology 
being there for each other through sadness and joy 
doing more than we knew we could and looking back… 
it was all for the good! 

This poem is dedicated to the students, teachers, and staff of Madonna School in Omaha, who made it through the whole 2020-21 school year in-person with a remote learning option. The photo above was taken by Janet at the Madonna School prom, of her daughter with date.

Click here to view this month's issue of Your Country Neighbor.

Penny poem published in May 2021 YCN

The Lucky Penny

“Find a penny

 pick it up 

 all day long 

 you’ll have good luck!” 

Back when penny candy 

was a thing 

it was simply grand 

made him sing 

a copper in hand! 

Grasped in chubby fist 

he’d rush to the store 

peer inside, make a wish 

and hope there’s more 

peppermint twists. 

Those days are long gone 

now spot a penny 

laying on the lawn 

it ain’t worth any 

folks just walk on. 

He’s old but a boy at heart 

when he spies one 

still plays his part 

it’s great fun 

almost an art. 

“A penny saved 

is a penny earned” 

this maxim he’ll rave 

this lesson he’s learned 

‘cause hard times he’s braved. 

He served in a war 

then lived on the street

the poorest of poor 

but fate brought a treat 

he’s poor no more. 

His childish ways 

all that penny collecting 

saved the day 

again made him sing 

boy, did it pay! 

As if it was planned 

spied a 1944 steel wheat penny 

held in his hand 

didn’t look worth any

but sold for $100 grand!

This fictional poem was inspired by National Lucky Penny Day, which is May 23rd. The value of the penny is not fictional.

By Janet Sobczyk, 2021

Click here to see the May issue of Your Country Neighbor.

An April showers poem published in YCN

Fair Weather Friend

by Janet Sobczyk, 2021 

At daybreak she yawns,

stretches, checks the weather

rain dissuades her

no use going out today.

Others awake, arise

make breakfast

encourage her to go out

it won't be so bad.

She shivers at the open door

feels the wind

backs away

not today.

Stays by the window

gazing at the storm

listening, waiting

resolved to stay inside.

Patter of raindrops slows

wind dies down

she's still reluctant

not wanting to get wet.

Owner scoops her up

declares she must

opens the door

plops her on soggy ground.

She looks up disgruntled

tiptoes away

does business quickly

scampers back.

Tolerates the toweling

grabs squeaky toy

runs in circles

relieved it's time to play!

Millie choosing to stay inside.

Click here to see the April 2021 issue of Your Country Neighbor

First Grandchild's First Easter

 

Ruth the rabbit

In 2014 I posted on this blog "A Happy Easter" with two Easter family photos... from 1998 and 2014. Such a big difference from small children to grown children.

1998

2014

In that post I wrote about memories of Easter in church with small ones and was reminded of that today watching a family with 2 children a few pews ahead of us. Times are certainly different now as parents in masks struggle to corral toddlers... who still shriek and cry. That much is the same.  

But in that 2014 post I wrote,  "I look forward someday to having grandchildren, but not just yet, because I am happy in this precious moment. A moment that I know will speed forward just as quickly as all the other precious years did."

Well, 6 years definitely flew quickly and first grandchild Ruth arrived to light up our lives! Whether in person, in photos, or in video calls she never ceases to entertain us. And still, I am happy in this precious Easter moment.  

Happy Easter to all!

Click here to read the 2014 post "A Happy Easter" 

2 poems published in March YCN

 

🎜🎝𝅘𝅥🎜🎝𝅘𝅥

Music in my School

It lifts my spirits

 that lilt of piano

 wafting down the hall

 whether by a skilled hand

 with smooth confidence

 or a beginner’s hand

 plinking with hesitance

 doesn’t matter

 it’s music the same

 tugs the corners of my mouth

 upwards

 pause to listen

 just for the moment

 it calms stress

 inspires gratitude

 lifts thoughts

 above mundane concerns

 soak it in

 then…

 praise the player

 and thank the teacher.

March is “Music in Our Schools Month.” 
 This poem is dedicated to music therapists, teachers, and band directors everywhere, 
but especially those at Madonna School in Omaha. 

By Janet Sobczyk, 2021

A Popcorn Lover

She pretends to settle into bed but ears point to the door
 at the slightest kitchen rustle she’ll dash to beg some more.

 Plink, plink, plink, kernels hit the pan
 oil’s heated, salt’s ready, a midnight snack’s the plan.

 She waits, impatient, white popcorn overflows again
 bounces off counter, hits the floor. Win!

 She skitters and dives, nabs her prey
 triumphantly carries it away.

 Spits it out, bats it around
 picks it up and flops on the ground.

 Nibbles it carefully, not in a hurry
 then trots after the maker to dance in a flurry.

 He relents, tosses one high
 she biffs the catch, it bounces wide.

 She sniffs and tracks it down
 scarfs it, acts like a clown.

 The game resumes, simple and fun
 she leaps and catches the very next one.

 With popcorn she delights, it lifts the mood
 she loves to perform and play with her food.

 Did you know that March 11th is National Popcorn Lovers Day?

By Janet Sobczyk, 2021

2 light-hearted nature poems in Feb. issue of YCN

 

Dancing Trees

By Janet Sobczyk, 2021

All 
lined up 
like chorus girls 
not high-kicking 
but swaying in time 
to the winds of the storm 
snow swirling ’round them 
dusting, clumping on branches 
in unison they bend to the right 
forced to bow by a gust 
straighten up 
shimmy 
nod to their audience 
watching from the window.

Stinkbug in the House

By Janet Sobczyk, 2021

Slow and deliberate 

might buzz off quickly 

but crawls for now 

balancing angular body 

on delicate legs 

wanders close for a look at me 

then turns and creeps away 

the dog ignores it 

tried eating one once 

expected it to be 

as delicious as cicadas 

spit it out 

shook head in disgust 

took one more sniff 

then backed away 

still remembers that scent 

no longer is alarmed 

knows I’ll take it outside 

only to find another, later 

or is it the same one? 

keeps getting thrown out in the cold 

finds its way back inside 

feasts on houseplants 

blends in with woodwork 

ventures near the human 

oops! too close 

captured in a tissue 

back outside again. 

Note: 2020 was a bountiful year for stinkbugs because, due to the weather, 

they had two growth seasons instead of the typical one.

Click here to view Your Country Neighbor Feb. 2021 issue

Poem about Monica published in Jan. 2021 YCN.

If You Believe, You Can!

By Janet Sobczyk, 2020

She believed she could tie her shoes 

didn’t know she was “handicapped” 

fine-motor-skills challenged 

didn’t know that many children 

with Down syndrome 

wear slip-ons or shoes with Velcro 

their whole lives 

she was determined 

would twirl and twist laces 

worn thin, we’d replace ‘em 

she kept trying 

we kept encouraging 

she’d master the first loop 

then get stuck 

master the second loop 

get stuck again 

year after year 

she practiced, focused 

and one day… she did it! 

not once but over and over 

double-knotted 

triple-knotted 

she’d bring the shoes to us 

show her success 

want them unknotted 

to begin again 

time after time 

‘til muscle memory stuck 

proud and happy 

she knew she could do it!

Note: The photo wasn't submitted to Your Country Neighbor, but I wanted to post this pic here of my daughter when she was in the early years of struggling with her laces. She was so tiny and trying hard to mimic the skills of others. I wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to do it. But she believed she could!

Click here to see the January issue of Your Country Neighbor