There is a knocking at the door. I open and no one is there.
So I shut it and lock it and walk back to my chair.
Now the doorbell is ringing. Out my window I take a peek.
I see an old woman, “Why is it me that she seeks?”
As I open my door she starts to walk away.
“No please wait, come back!” is what I say.
“My young dear child, what is your name?
For I am seeking shelter, for somewhere to stay.”
“My name is of no matter. There’s a hotel down the street.
Can I give you a ride or perhaps something to eat?”
“No I am not hungry, just very tired and old.
May I come in? It is so late and so cold.”
“I suppose you can, for a minute or two.
Sit here by the fire and some tea I shall brew.”
And when I came back the old woman was there no more.
Except for a ring and a note on the floor…
“Three years ago on this very day,
A young woman came to me in my bed where I lay.
She said she had lived here sometime before.
And thought she lost her wedding ring outside in a snowstorm.
She asked if I could before I die,
To help her find it. There were tears in her eyes.
So I got myself up and out of bed
She said if she cannot find it, that very night she would be dead.
So I searched and I searched and to my surprise.
The young woman vanished right in front of my eyes.
I wanted to run, I wanted to scream.
Until on my finger I noticed a ring.
I ran back inside and sat down by the fire.
Told myself I was dreaming.
Even called that girl a liar.
For as I sat and started to think…
This was always my house,
These were always my things.
That picture on the mantel from my wedding day,
The couch, the chair, the bed where I laid.
The rug that I am sitting on now,
This ring on my finger is even mine somehow.
I looked at it in beauty, then I started to cry.
It was my wedding ring I lost it at twenty-five.
My husband came home on that snowy day.
Seen it was gone and thought I had been away.
For there was snow in my hair and I had just came inside
To make some hot tea for an old woman
Which my husband thought was a lie
In his anger and jealousy he yelled and he screamed
He beat me and killed me all because of a ring.”
I felt frightened and shocked as I put the note down.
Took the tea off the stove, then picked the ring up from the ground.
What a silly old woman, I thought to myself,
This is my wedding ring, I had it up on my shelf.
I was dusting that shelf just earlier today.
For my husband will be home soon
On business he went away.
As I put it on my hand and admired it in beauty.
Something became cold, it went all through me.
For I had put my ring on when I answered my door
And there saw that old woman all tattered and scarred.
And when I went to her outside, I held her hand as in the house we walked.
And just remembered that my ring then I had dropped.
For my hand was so wet and cold from the snow
And I am twenty-five, how could she know?
Just then my husband walked through the door.
He hugged me and kissed me, then sat by the fire to get warm.
“The house looks lovely. My dear you look so pale.
Whatever is wrong? Sit beside me and tell.”
I could not move, I could not speak.
For the first knocking at the door, no one was there…
Because it was me.
