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Though she longed for her own children,
God supplied a steady flow;
And her life was filled with youngsters,
As the years would come and go.

Gently taught she of the Savior,
Little hearts received with joy!
Steadily, she wisely counseled
With a young and wayward boy.

Little ones, with no attention,
Fell into the lady’s plans
And she loved and guided gently,
Trusting God would understand.

Children need a loving Mother
Who has time to listen well;
Who can watch their face intently,
As their stories they do tell.

Though her loving arms were holding
Children other than her own,
Still, the mother love was given;
Still, the seeds of love were sown.

Not to one was she blood mother;
But I wonder how God sees.
Does birthing make a mother,
Or is it loving one of these?


Joan Clifton Costner
Copyrighted. All rights reserved.

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