REMEMBERING
She knelt beside that rugged cross,
The Mother of our Lord,
I'm sure she felt the nails and thorns,
And the piercing of the sword,
I think she saw "Her Babe",
That she'd held so long ago,
And she recalled the angels words,
She had hoped would not be so,
She saw her precious "little Boy",
As He played upon the floor,
She heard again; His laughter,
That she would hear no more,
She saw Him play like other boys,
"She knew within her heart,
That though He seemed much like the rest,
He would always stand apart,
She watched Him grow to manhood,
But without the sins of man,
And though She knew His destiny,
She didn't know God's plan,
She watched Him choose His helpers,
Some rich, some very poor,
They brought the message of God's love,
They'd never heard before,
She saw these same friends turn away.
She knew it was too late,
That awful scene,
Outside the City gate,
Oh, how she longed to hold His hand:
And kiss His thorn-pierced brow,
But He had gone beyond her reach,
He was His Father's now,
Again I see her at the tomb,
Of the son she loved so dear,
But the angel said "He has arose,
Come see, He is not here,
Then I can see her radiant face,
As she looks to Heaven above,
She knew He did not die from hate.
