In an old Country kitchen, my mother ~ would quite often sing.
As she carried from stove to table, the food ~ she had to bring.
She'd sing as she sat a-sewing ~ the clothes we had to wear.
She'd sing songs of blessings, oh Savior ~ sure-n keep our care.
She'd hum ~ down the cotton row ~ 'til she reached the very end . . .
Then turn and a-coming back ~ she'd start singing ~ again.
She sang the songs of glory ~ unto our Lord above . . .
Reaching far down into her heart ~ giving ~ to Him ~ her love.
Mama would hug and kiss us ~ telling of another world to be . . .
Of a Savior called Jesus ~ whom she Prayed ~ we'd one day see.
Oh Glory ~ she sang in tenor; my Lord will soon come for me,
But there's another world to sing in ~ with Angels, you'll see.
She'd ride in a wagon ~ to Church on a Sunday ~ in a choir to sing.
And ~ she'd Pray oh Savior ~ sweet blessings ~ please bring.
I'd hear her at the old rub board ~ a-singing once again . . .
I'd ask her why and she said ~ glorify Jesus and avoid all sin.
She was my little Mother and a hard life she did see,
But she told us to keep the hope of yonder ~ way beyond the sea.
Said there's more than one world ~ to sing in ~ sure-n 'tis true.
And I'll be a-waitin' with Jesus, to gladly welcome ~ all of you.
She's there now ~ a singing; in her tenor voice ~ so sweet and clear.
We all miss her so much ~ sometimes we think we hear . . .
Her voice as she sits a-sewing ~ sweet melodies of her soft love,
So, there really must be ~ another world to sing in ~ up there above.Dedicated to Julie Mullins Duncan and Claudia Williams Walker,
the two best mothers I ever knew. |
