Amazing Grace

In that old Hymn book her memories
stay, Grandma's weathered hands,
held this book so tight, every
Sunday, from it's torn pages she
sang in his light.

As a child I watched as her tears fell
upon page 57, 'Amazing Grace'
how sweet her sound. Her voice of an
angel reached the Heaven's above,
my Grandma truly felt God's love.

On the day that she passed, in a
Nursing Home she lay, I never
intended on her being in that place.
With tears in my eyes, I gathered
her things, among them, that old
tattered Hymn book, from which
she use to sing.

I sat there on her bed, tears filled
my eyes, searched for that page,
where many tears, she had cried.
Holding the book to my heart, I
heard her sing, I felt her presence,
the memories came flooding in
on me.

So lost in this sweet little lady's
book, I could feel her tears upon that
page. I felt the warmth of her hands
where she held that old book, tears fell
softly upon my face, as one last time,
on page 57, I took a long look.

I saw her reflection, her soft grey
hair, the tears in her eyes, fell
upon the page there. Amazing
Grace, I can hear my angel sing,
throughout the Heavens as she
finally gets her well deserved
wings.

I closed that old hymn book with
my trembling hands, held it close
as I prepared to leave her room
for the last time. Amazing grace,
that was her song, In the stillness
of the night, I can hear her lovely
voice, the Heavenly angels are
singing along.

by Ruth warren

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