a thanksgiving poem

I learned this many years ago, I have no idea who wrote it, and I don't know if it was a song or a poem. but for 40 years or more, I would always resite it like a poem. it is a good one for thanksgiving, I hope you all like this.


I stopped in front of a little church, as I was passing by.
the door was open it was almost dark, I could hear a voice from inside.
there a man was praying, and I remember his every word.
and as I stood and leisten closely, this is what I heard.
he said I don't want to be a bother Lord, but I sure am feeling blue.
recon you could change your schedule a little bit, and call me on home to.
you see i'm so lonesome without her Lord, I don't know what to do.
so if it's all the same with you Lord, would you just call me on home to.
then through the shadows the old man walked, slowly down the steps.
feebly through the church yard, leaning on his cane for help.
and as he tried to kneel again, he fell across a grave so new.
the Lord had heard his humble prayer, and called him on home to.
I often go back to that little church, where I kneel and say a prayer.
and I place flowers on those two graves, where he rest beside her there.
and as I thank my God, for the two best friends that I ever had.
my tears flow freely on those two graves, one my mother the other my dad.