Mama
by Bill Childers

Mama

So, now you've raised three kids,
Loved one man for over sixty-five years.
You've patched cuts and skinned knees,
You've mended hurts... and hushed tears.

You've kept grandbabies 'til they were grown,
"Til they brought their kids to hold.
And great-grandkids then stood in line,
Like their off-springs broke the mold.

The untold numbers of banquets served,
Cooked as only Mama can cook,
Putting "down-home" creations on the table
That never came from any book.

Caring and time has shown many needs,
That tore at your heart and mind.
And days became decades of living and life
Filled with surprises of every kind!

The miles of flowers, beds filled by hand,
Spewed forth beautiful fancies and foods.
Irises and roses, radishes and tomatoes,
Sparkled of God's promise that life is good.

When it was kneeling at the altar rail,
Or planting yet another thing to grow,
Your heart of love spoke the same words...
"Thanks you Lord, for all I've come to know."

You spent over two decades teaching
Shining faces truths of the Lord's Word;
Praying that each eager young life
Received the love in what they heard.

Oh, the body has ached 'til you just knew
You surely couldn't meet even one more day.
Yet, you repeated the prayer of many times...
"Lord, get me up, and show me the way."

So now you ask, "What's it all about?"
You've reached ninety, and nothing's new!
In fact, everything looks about the same...
And you'll do... just what you always do!

To Mama... on turning ninety.
With Love...

You're "other son",
Bill
 

Bill Childers
Copyright : 2003

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