I had a lot in common with my sister Carol. I am sad she is gone. She was twenty years older than I was, enough older I could have been her daughter. After she had her stroke she took me by the hand and said if she doesn't recover the use of her hands completely I would have to be the organist and she would be the artist. I told her that would never work! It is only recently that I realized we had a very thick common thread; we are both poets, she with words, mine is visual. This is a very big discovery for me. I mean really big. It helps me understand why I will never be good at so many things like balancing check books, being a secretary (my dad's suggested profession), CEO of McDonalds, Real Estate Agent, etc. This rug has her poem around the edge: If I came to earth to watch and sit I'd be wasting the cherry and eating the pit. I never saw Carol eat the pit, not even a nibble. But that is why being a poet is a great journey--you learn that pits are necessary but you don't dwell on the hard stuff. Poets interpret the past. I read a quote that said poets are prophets, not of the future but the past. I like that because I am always thinking about what happened and why and how should I react. This rug is of Adam and Eve right before Eve partakes of the fruit. It is that decision of should we just sit in this lovely garden with no children, no stress, no fighting, no diapers, no tears, no getting a baby sitter, and especially no joy or should we partake of the fruit and experience all of those things. Boy am I glad she had the courage to make that decision for children are the cherries, without them it is the pits!