She's eighty-six and brings to shine
The shoes of the big family,
Her gait is slow, bent is her spine
She knows of grim adversity.
She served her master's brood with love,
Nursed all the children well,
Although the times were rough and tough,
And gremlins cast their spell.
She peels potatoes for the meal,
Her face a-shining bright,
And for the stew prepares the eel,
For guests wll soon alight.
Her gaze does wander frequently
Beyond the heating bricks,
Up to the Lord on Calvary
On the wood-carved crucifix.
Lo! while she nursed her masters brood,
Extravagant and wild,
She healed the wounds of many a feud,
And cared for every child.
But now she will the stove attend
To take out ash and soot,
Her face content and radiant, -
In gladness absolute.
A servant by vocation, she
Has slightly bent her spine,
She hangs the clothes carefully
Upon the laundry line.
Her eyes are big and luminous,
Deep joy is in her gaze.
Her features show an agelessness,
Her bearing has much grace.
The seed well planted in the earth,
Be it of wheat or rye,
To bring forth fruit and have new birth
The seed has first to die.
Behold the servant has endured,
Fruit gleams like grapes on vine.
The fruit is ripe, the wheat matured,-
Facsimile divine.
