To Those Ladies Unappreciated On Earth 

Just when they lived, and for how long, we simply cannot tell
No names were left on record, for manís exalting swell.
They lived, they died, no family tree, seen only for a day
They did their work, they served the Lord, and gently passed away. 

It matters not, of that they had, if it was sparse or much
They simply lived and served the Lord, and giving to Him such
Deep pleasure, that was all for Him, an intimacy sweet,
To pour the oil upon His head or on His blessed feet. 

She only touched the garment hem, she wept for her dead lad
She put two mites in temple funds, tíwas truly all she had.
They taught me how to persevere, in prayer when silence reigns
They taught me how to give to God, out from their meager means. 

No monuments are found for them, no days of special fame
No earthly accolades bestowed, no one eíne knows their name.
That is no one on earth below, but God in heaven above
Delights to trace, and yet again, their many acts of love. 

For never will He ere forget, those deeds of kindness done
Not for their glory from mankind, but glory for Godís Son.
For in the record kept in Heaven, of deeds once done on earth
A full reward be given them, and joy beyond earthís mirth. 

So worry not my sister dear, if toiling on each day
That no one seems to notice, as you go on your way.
Look up, look on, and see beyond, the drudgery and work
For God alone, He knows your heart, and knows your precious worth. 

And in that day, it wonít be long, when you before His seat
Will hear your name called clearly out, and come before His feet.
It may be Gayle or Mary, it may be Jean or Joy
But deep will be your happiness and bliss without alloy. 

And then it will be all worthwhile, each burden you have borne
Each sorrow that has crossed your path, and loneliness forlorn
Will then be fully recompensed, by God Himself in love
For all of lifeís true values, are weighed by God above.
 

© Rowan Jennings
6th August 2003