History: Grace Davis

By S. T. Perry

They brought home the portrait last night to me;
On the parlor wall it is hung.
I gave to the artist a picture small,
Which was taken when she was young.
It’s true to life; and there’s a look in the eyes,
I never saw in another.
And the same sweet smile that she always wore.
‘Tis my good, old fashioned Mother.

The hair in the picture is wavy and dark.
‘Twas taken before she was gray.
And the same short curls at the side hang down,
For she always wore it that way.
Her hand on the Bible, easily rests.
As when with my sisters and brothers,
I knelt at her knee, reciting my verse,
To my good old fashioned Mother.

Her dress, it is plain and quite out of style.
Not a puff or ruffle is there.
And no jewels or gold glitter and shine,
She never had any to wear.
Ambition for wealth, or love of display,
We could not even discover,
For poor in spirit and humble in heart,
Was my good old fashioned Mother.

Her life was crowded with work and with care,
How did she accomplish it all?
I do not remember she ever complained,
And yet she was slender and small.
Motives of live that were selfish or wrong,
With Christian grace did she smother.
She lived for her God and the loved ones at home.
My true, good, old fashioned Mother.

The years if her life were only three score,
When the messenger whispered low,
“The Master has come and called for thee”
She answered, “I’m ready to go.”
I gaze alone on her portrait tonight.
And more than ever I love her.
And thank the Lord that he gave to me
Such a good, old fashioned Mother.

To Be Continued…

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