I watched them at the picnic table
With crayons in their hands.
And I wondered at the purest love
God had given to this man.
He never seems to let me go
When the world is tumbling down.
No, He gives me little scenes like this
To remind me where happiness is found.
Too often we are caught in webs
That we allow to tax our lives.
Instead of concentrating on being
Good parents, husbands and, wives.
My self-made preoccupation makes it difficult to see,
But then I watch those little faces
And, my worries are set free.