CORONA IN THE CITY

3. Grandmother Awaits

I have waited through the winter

To see my dimpled darlin’ come home,

From across the seas, from over yonder.

Oh, to see my dimpled darlin’ again!

But alas, the world is spinning in a tizzy with an unusual kind of war, like nothing I have lived through as a child. I count the thousands of miles between her and me; I reckon the dwindling time of my golden years. Perhaps we will meet, perhaps not.

So, if I go, will you tell her—

Oh, will you please tell her?

Nev’r to bear the guilt of an unsaid goodbye;

But to know there’s a glad reunion across Jordan.

Ah, she is made for such a time as this!

I have been to many places over the decades—nothing is quite as sweet as home and home often is not a place but a person.

So, if I go, will you tell her—

Oh, will you please tell her?

Nev’r to forget to come home;

And to choose that one thing which is needful.

Ah, she is made for such a time as this!

I have seen many faces—but no countenance so comely as moulded by contentment, none so misshapen as marked with envy.

Oh, will you please tell her?

So, if I go, will you tell her

Nev’r to neglect to work with willing hands;

And to be content yet not complacent.

Ah, she is made for such a time as this!

I have met both poverty and plenty through the years—truly, we brought nothing into the world and can take nothing out of it.

So, if I go, will you tell her—

Oh, will you please tell her?

Nev’r to forget to be rich toward God;

And to remember that trust is a currency.

Ah, she is made for such a time as this!