To be somebody
Is to look at the face of an old person
And see the beauty of God.
The soft lines of wrinkles look like
A piece of classic art work
The hardships of life
Have left their beautiful marks
The scars and the folds
Seem to be engrafted
By a great artist
The face of an old believer
Carries the dignity of a sacred life
That dignity of faith, hope and love
Endures all tests
And lasts forever!

I wrote this poem after one of my last visits to my mother before she went to be with the Lord. She was sitting at the window. The sun was shining on her white hair, giving her a radiant halo. She was a godly woman, a true saint. Her wonderful face will always follow me.