My Sainted  Grandmother

 

My Sainted  Grandmother, so kind and dear

Her sweet voice, once more I would love to hear

Soft and gentle, but firm and bold

I can still feel her tender touch

On my hand that she would often hold

She taught me about the Lord

It was a great gift

One of few that she could afford

As she got old and grey

She would tell me of a great day

When Jesus would come back on a cloud

And Gabriel would blow his horn loud

And all the saved would rise in the sky with him

And the clouds would roll, and the sun would dim

Then she would look at me, and say, I will be in that number, even though it will be but a few

And someday sweet child, if you get ready,

You can go there too.

Written by Gregory W. Gore