Never has there been a more precious jewel,
Neither a Ruby or a Pearl.
The Weaver wove her with the upmost joy,
She was a tender girl.
She journeyed each day as a King’s Pilgrim,
That is how she lived her life.
A friend so cherished, A servant so true,
A sister, A mother, A wife.
She set her eyes on things of beauty,
Such as the birds and trees.
Watching the world change from the front porch,
Feeling the Autumn breeze.
Her hope was fixed in the Lord of Lord’s,
She had faith in His love.
Now she rests in the arms of His embrace,
For she has gone above.
Today we cry remembering our loss,
Oh we loved her so.
Yet we see her face in each grandchild
We get to watch them grow.
So now we come together as family,
And tightly hold each other.
She was kind, creative, wise, and loving,
She was my Grandmother!
