Because I couldn't be there, and she tells us she doesn't need anything, I decided to write my mom a poem for Mothers' Day
To Israel
a child did land
So tiny at birth
she fit in his hand
as a babe and a tot
Indian agent and farming
were her father’s lot
She grew fast and loved
to be out of doors –
Standing back of her dad
as he galloped the horse
At three, they did move
packing all of their load
They moved to a house
on the curve of a road
Bountiful was her home
through school and beyond
She sang and took parts
she worked and was strong
The times they were sparse
from work she didn’t recoil
Serving beer fell her lot
when at Curve Inn she toiled
During her senior year
she met a young man named Fred
A month after graduation
in the temple they wed
To their union did come
a child, after some worry
He was only the first
they didn’t come in a hurry
Over some twenty years
seven children were born
Six of them lived
one newborn they did mourn
She raised them to learn
She raised them to learn
and she trained them to work
Shopping bargains she taught
and no service to shirk
Her faith in the Lord
stands out o’er the rest
Her example to serve Him
her children has blessed
After Fred left this life
on a mission she went
In California Fresno
her service was spent
She still teaches her children
to serve those in need.
To those sick or shut in
her visits bless them indeed
Baking countless rice puddings
and a visit or call
Bring comfort and assurance
to her friends, one and all
And there’s always a project
that her attention requires
She always is working
never seeming to tire
To her children, now grown
she is still their mother
Prayers, encouragement and praise
for this, that, and the other
And so, on this Mothers’ Day
in her ninety-first year
Her children and grandchildren
are grateful and cheer
For their mother and grandma
who loves them so well,
And are thankful she’s ours
and her praises regale
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