She was my mother — she was love.
   God sent her to us from above;
No great career, no one great deed
   Could give her fame, to fortune lead.

As I recall her smiling face,
   I see a queen of stately grace.
She wove a life of golden lace
   That time and tears cannot erase.

She gave the most there was to give;
   She knew no other way to live.
She never wanted wealth or gold,
   And what she treasured could not be sold.

As memories of time unfold,
   I feel the love her life did hold;
And when her heart could give no more,
   God opened another door

To Paradise and joys unknown,
   To reap the love so dearly sown.
To heal her heart is what He chose -
   To give her peace and sweet repose.
   
The work is ended, new life begun,
   In obeying God, she truly won.

Grace Jamison Cornelius