Father's calloused, hardened hands
Wore each page from front to back.
He'd gently lift it from the shelf
Read to us, and to himself.
Father honored sacred things.
He worked at living faithfully.
We always knew that he was true,
To what he taught and what he knew.
When father passed away from us,
There were tears, but no one fussed.
Many came from miles away
To honor him his final day.
From his bible father drew
Wisdom that had seen him through.
Raised a light to show the way,
That we who follow, would not stray.
We never knew when we were young
Father's work was never done
But, now our children walk behind
We walk his path, with him in mind.
Copyright 2001 by Layne S. Porter
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