Mother was Presbyterian and Dad Roman Catholic <br />It took them a silver anniversary to truly bridge the gulf <br />And I about as long to find my way <br />With help from Quakers and Unitarians and other <br />Strange creatures of the light. <br /> <br />Princeton all but bluntly told me that my type was not welcome <br />And Chicago was offended at chapbook publishing that spoofed at Shelly <br />But Berkeley welcomed me <br />And much to Mother's dismay I said 'yes' <br />Not knowing what yes could mean <br />But desperate for heavier credentials. <br /> <br />Harvard even dimly figures in <br />For all my friends were going not to Harvard <br />But to its antitheses established in the great fight <br />That split New England congregationalism <br />And gave the word - Unitarian - to us as a term of derision. <br />Even Andover-Newton was not right <br />I tried it for three full days <br />Knowing by instinct's pain it was not the place. <br />Despite Dean Peck's powerful preaching. <br /> <br />Berkeley was for me correct and in its great freedom <br />A strange thing emerged, a love to learn would come and stay <br />Following this strange thing called truth <br />To an old rugged cross <br />Quite acceptable to Presbyterians but not to those Unitarians <br />Who are too busy to stop and learn.<br /><br />Bill Grace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-of-pure-autobiography/
