She is a special
lady;
Her hair is
silver-white.
She dried away my
baby tears;
And she taught me
wrong from right.
That was when she was
much younger;
Now, many years have
gone by;
A face once smooth
now is wrinkled;
And hair, once black,
is silver-white.
Silver-white, silver-white—
Her hair is silver-white.
Time has taken all it gave her
And left her hair silver-white.
Once she stood so very
strong
Against the storms of
time;
Now her strength has
long since faded
She wears a crown,
silver-white.
Life gave her such
heavy burdens;
Somehow that does not
seem right.
Not much joy was hers
in living;
And her reward is
silver-white.
Life for her was not
easy
When she was a little
girl;
And it did not get much
better
When she went out
into the world.
But she did her best
to live it—
Always walking in the
light.
Now the years have
bent her shoulders
And left her hair
silver-white.
Not so very long from
now
She will leave us in
the night.
She will go and meet
her Savior—
Receive a robe of
silver-white—
Oh Silver-white, yes silver-white,
In a home that’s
silver-white—
She’ll be blessed for
all she’s given
And wear a robe of
silver-white.
©Stan Sanford
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ReplyDeleteIn Memory of Lillian Jordan Sanford: Today marks the 103rd anniversary of my mother's birth. I wrote and sang this song for her a couple of years before she died. Early in that evening when she left us in the night, I visited with her; and she asked me to stay a little longer than usual. She normally would hurry me along to be with my family. In our last moments together, I read to her all of the chapters in the Bible that she had assigned to each of us years ago: She called I Corinthians 13 Daddy's chapter; Katherine's was Psalms 23, mine was Psalms 19; Marie's was Psalms 1; Gloria's was Psalms 24; and hers was Psalms 37. When I finished reading and we prayed, she said, "I am going to sleep now." A few hours later, as she slept, she went to meet her Savior.
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