Disclaimer: I do not own DOOL. I just like to play in that world, no matter how seldom I do so. I also do not own this poem, it is the intellectual property of Thorsten Kaye.

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A/N: I had been thinking about the Myrtle tribute on All My Children, which is my favorite soap opera ever, and I remembered this poem that was poem that was read by Zach at the end. Then I was hit with a stroke of inspiration, I wanted to say goodbye to Mrs. Horton (the beloved Frances Reid), and this poem is a perfect good-bye.

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In Loving Memory

Frances Reid (1914-2010)

A Grandma To Us All

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The doors of St. Luke's creaked open slowly, a head poking through the crack. It was the head of a young man, no older than his early 20s. He stepped completely into the church, gently closing the door behind him. He scanned the room, making sure it was empty, save for a single casket that stood at the foot of the altar.

The young man dipped his hand in the Holy Water, cringing as the water touched his skin while making the Sign of the Cross. He crossed down the aisle of the church, moving closer and closer to the casket as he did.

The young man kneeled in front of the open casket that held the body of Alice Horton, Salem's most beloved resident. She was lying peacefully in the box, as if she was sleeping.

"Hello, Mrs. Horton," he croaked out. "You probably don't remember me. Honestly, I don't think we ever met. But, my name's Silas. I…I'm not really good at this sort of thing." He stated. "I just wanted to, um, I wanted to say that you touched a lot of lives. You gave this town a sense of community. And, if I can be so bold, you never turned away a soul." Silas smiled. "Even if that didn't have one themselves."

Silas stood up and reached into his pocket, producing an envelope. He placed the envelope on the top of the casket.

"I, ah, I didn't write this," Silas said. "I just thought it reminded me of you. Enjoy."

Silas stepped away from the casket, smoking coming off of his knees. He moaned in pain before walking away from the casket, waving his hand and vanishing from sight with a loud crack.

That sound of Silas disappearing from the church caused the church to vibrate just a little, as if signaling to Alice's loved ones that they were needed. Hope darted out of the backrooms of the church, ready for a fight if someone had harmed her grandmother's corpse, followed by her older sister, Julie.

They looked around the church, finding nothing that could give them the source of the vibrations. Julie crossed over to the casket, noticing the envelope.

"Hope," she called out to her little sister. "Did you put this in with Gram?"

"No," Hope replied, walking over to Julie.

Hope studied the envelope. "Maybe there's a name inside?"

"Isn't it a crime to tamper with someone's mail?" Julie asked, smiling good-naturedly at Hope.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hope said, pulling out a lighter and running the flame across the seal of the envelope.

The top popped and it opened in Hope's hand. She pulled out a folded piece of paper, reading the words on it.

"Does it have a name?" Julie asked, knocking her out of her own thoughts.

"What? No. No, it doesn't," she answered. "But, read it."

Julie took the paper, reading the words out loud,

"Now who will lead our Carnival
And who will make us stronger
Who will mend our broken sleep
When she is here no longer

For whose part do we stand and bow
What stories do we tell
And will we memorize the day
When great and greatness fell

Say will this valley overcome
And will these shadows fade
And will we lift our eyes to see
The beauty that she made?

The disappearing last of her
That leads to worlds unknown
Has left a path to softly tread
When sadness wanders home

I'll meet thee where the highland winds
Divide wild mountain thyme
Where I will be forever yours
And you forever mine."

"Do you think it's something Gram would've liked?" Hope asked, her eyes filling with tears.

Julie simply nodded, turning back to look her motionless grandmother. "She would've loved it."

Julie hugged Hope before the two women decided it was time to bring the entire family in and the service could officially begin.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed reading it. I know that it isn't the best work I've ever done. But, I believe that to write is to pray and I hope that this can be my prayer for Ms. Reid's soul.

If there is anything wrong with it, just tell me what it is and I will fix it as best I can. I just wanted to give a tribute to the wonderful and beautiful Frances Reid.