My soul felt parched and empty, needing refreshment from on high;
I prayed to my Father as I reached for Mom’s bible lying nearby.
She gave it to me as a gift before she graced heaven’s shore;
It had been her strength and comfort for fifty years or more.
I sighed, then I turned straight to Genesis, chapter one . . .
But it wasn’t scripture that was to be my inspiration.
For my eyes fell on Mom’s handwritten notes, faded and worn;
Some were difficult to read, on the pages crumpled and torn.
I found them in the columns and scattered here and there.
So, tirelessly I read the words she had written with such care.
They took me back to childhood as I sat at Momma’s knee;
I heard again her tender voice as she read God’s word to me.
Those sweet precious memories engulfed my heart and soul;
I felt satisfying joy and peace as His Spirit took control.
I didn’t complete one chapter as I sat there on that day;
But my parched soul was refreshed in a much different way.
Finally, I closed that bible and put it safely in its place;
I thought, Thanks, Mom, with heaven’s smile upon my face.
Yes, the Father knew just what I needed before I bowed to pray;
For He led me to Mom’s bible, and her notes I read that day.
Written by Loyd Taylor