After the last child was put to bed
And mother kissed our little head
Daddy sat in an old wooden chair
And opened his Bible with care.
Daddy read the Bible every night
At the wobbly table by lamplight
Studying carefully all the worn lines
Of those ancient biblical times.
Daddy's hands all gnarled with age
Would tenderly turn each worn page
And often bowing his head snow-white
Quietly he prayed into the night.
Softly he murmured worship to Jesus
Praying he watch over and protect us,
Expecting divine guidance from above
And the grace of our Creator's love.
With tears he thanks' God for mother
Who has loved him as no other,
A devoted wife who labors at his side
To create the home where we bide.
Each night he gave The Lord praise
For blessing his contented days
With us children he wholly adores
Before rising on squeaky floorboards.
Money was something we never had
Yet I recall no times that were sad,
At times our lives was a bit tattered
But we had blessings that mattered.
From corn crops in the stony fields
And the reaping of meager yields
To the cool water from our well
Were all blessings where we dwell.
Life was hard but never unbearable
Our faded clothes were wearable,
There was always just enough to eat
And we had shoes on our feet.
In storms the roof didn't leak a drop
As the fire would crackle and pop
And as we warmed around it in love,
It was another blessing from above.
We held the grace of God always,
His blessings relieved harsh days
And daddy thanked God every night
Before he gently blew out the light.
Daddy's in Heaven where I pray to go,
Now my hair is white as snow
And as I sit reading his Bible every night
I see him praying in the lamplight.