In Loving Memory
August 18, 2004 – August 21, 2005
I was walking in Savannah past a church, decayed and dim,
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn.
And a sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew,
‘till I found myself sittin’ in a little wooden pew.
Out front was a young couple, sat in sorrow and nearly wild,
On the alter was a coffin…in the coffin was a child.
Rose a sad, old negro preacher from a lowly wooden desk,
With a manner grandly awkward and countenance grotesque.
And he said, “Now don’t be weepin’ for this little bit of clay,
For the little boy who lived there…he’s gone and run away.
He’s doing very finely and appreciates your love,
But Father wanted him in the large house up above.
Now, He didn’t give you that baby…by a hundred thousand miles,
He just think you need some sunshine, so He lend him for awhile.
And He let you love and keep him ‘till your hearts were bigger grown,
And these silver tears your sheddin’ are just interest on the loan.
His eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he views,
But a tear comes and he whispers, “I want my parents, too.”
It’s then the angels teach that little boy a song,
Says if only they be faithful they’ll soon be comin’ ‘long.
My poor dejected mourners, let your hearts with Jesus rest,
And don’t go criticizin’ the One that knows the best.
He’s given many comforts, He has a right to take away,
To the Lord be praise and glory, now and forever, let us pray.”
From a poem by Fred Rose
We wish we could have met you,
and held you in our arms;
But you were here for just a little while,
And before we knew it, you were gone.
With all our love,
Grandma and Grandpa Dean