KINDNESS AT ITS BEST
by;
June Masters Bacher
Her parlor I recall was small,
And furnished sparse indeed.
It had no special style at all
But recognized a need.
I often wonder what it was
That charmed her neighbors so;
There seemed to be a secret code
That only houses know.
Or was it she who lived inside
And offered warmth and rest?
I only know Grandmother's home
Was kindness at its best.
Her parlor I recall was small,
And yet it seemed to say,
"Come in! Let's praise in simple ways
The One who made this day."