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We thought there should be a
photo, at least.
So, we pleaded ... with broken
hearts, too.
Just one shot of the twins, with
Mother,
Who was worn from the labor, we
knew.
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It was dismal and dull, and the
times were hard;
Not enough work to go around.
These were the last, the hardest
of all.
Now, one must go in the ground.
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Mama was old for a baby at all,
Let alone identical twins.
"No wonder we lost him, no
wonder!" we said.
Her face was pale and grim.
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So, we laid little babies, one
on each side,
And we dreamed of what might
have been.
We all cried a little. But, her
tears came down
Like a rushing, o’erflowing,
stream!
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There were things to do. A few
brought food.
Then, the church people came and
said
They were sorry, no services in
the church,
For the tithe had not been paid.
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For the rest of my life, I’ve
carried the look
In my mind on mama’s face!
Sometimes, these 'religious'
ones make it hard
To understand 'Loving Grace'.
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It‘s straightened out, now, and
I do not hold
Any grudge against any man.
But, I’ve studied the likes of
Jesus and find
He’s certainly not like that
band!
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Jesus would comfort and, maybe,
weep, too.
Jesus would dry her tears.
He might even give her a glimpse
of Heaven,
Simply to soothe her cares.
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Mama had given so much of
herself,
Always a smile and a cheer.
Mama was more like the Savior,
that day,
Than any revealed all these
years.
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Now, they’ve all gone to Heaven
and I’m growing old.
I’ll join them before very long.
By the Grace of God, only, I’ll
find them all there;
Singing a heavenly song.
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As long as I have, I’ll study
His Word
So I can be more like Him.
For, God in His Heaven, knows
very well
I never want to be like them!
Joan Clifton Costner
Copyrighted. All rights
reserved.
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The
Library
All pages are listed in
the Library.
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