No mass letter from Eldre McCarty this week. So, I posted a poem I wrote for him. He sent letters directly to those who wished him a happy birthday. He felt touched by all the love!
A Mother's Baby
By Becky Lane Warner
Last of her own lullabies she will sing
In her heart, as a child, he will always stay
She spoils a bit and rarely will scold.
You’d think he’d be awful, expecting his way
And thoughtless of others he meets each day.
Her baby grows up right before her eyes.
His gentle concern for others all around
He sets his sights high, and strides out a far.
He bolsters his strength when he feels beaten down
Honest and open, his wisdom renown.
Friends seek his counsel and his comfort as well
He chooses a mission to far distant lands.
His influence leaving a spark that burns bright .
Peoples lives change from the darkness of night;
Into the bright sunlight of hope, faith and truth;
Dry away teardrops and drive away fear
As Samuel was offered to God, for to mold,
This mother is waiting, her baby to hold.
All my love,
Mom
for a view of the poem with the pictures see if at :
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