God could not be in every place
With loving hands to help erase
The teardrops from each baby’s face,
And so He thought of mother.
He could not send us here alone
And leave us to a fate unknown;
Without providing for His own,
The outstretched arms of mother.
God could not watch us night and day
And kneel beside our crib to pray,
Or kiss our little aches away;
And so He sent us mother.
And when our childhood days began,
He simply could not take command,
That’s why He placed our tiny hand
Securely into mother’s.
The days of youth slipped quickly by,
Life’s sun rose higher in the sky,
Full grown were we, yet ever nigh
To love us still, was mother.
And when life’s span of years shall end,
I know that God will gladly send,
To welcome home her child again,
That ever faithful mother.
– George W. Wiseman