A car is a car is a car, some would say,
But a car can be oh so much more, in a way,
Than a simple convenance from hither to yon,
And a practical purchase from which to move on.
Stella Rosa is her name, and she’s treated us well,
A mini-van with many great stories to tell.
She arrived on the scene in September Oh-Seven,
And oh how our ordinary lives she did leaven!
All dressed in a full coat of fine maroon paint,
A pedestrian auto she definitely ain’t.
She chauffeured our family, and sports teams to boot,
And when moving apartments, was as strong as a brute.
She’s led teams on mission trips, crowded with teens,
Dressed in enthusiasm and worn out blue jeans.
She’s seen most of this country, she’s been here and there,
Performing her job with dependability and care.
Her eyes have gone cloudy, and her paint’s lost some shine,
But as transportation, she conducts herself fine.
The upcoming repair bill was just too much to swallow,
And so we are left, in our sorrow, to wallow.
It’s the end of an era, as our needs have since changed,
And now, Stella Rosa, must be sadly exchanged.
The miles, and the years, have all taken their toll,
But her absence will certainly leave a big hole.
Goodbye, Stella Rosa, and godspeed to you now,
I hope your next life is rewarding somehow.
You’ve served us as completely as any car ever could,
We will always remember you as faithful and good.
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