A poor old woman, once there was.
Her husband long since dead.
She worked her fingers to the bone
To keep her family fed.
She labored for each meal they ate.
And daily did she strive
To scant produce what they need most
And keep them all alive.
No Bible did she ever own.
From sermons that she’d heard,
Though sometimes they’d no food to eat,
She fed them with the Word.
She early rose each Sabbath morn.
And walking while she’d sing.
She trod a mile in worn out shoes
To make her offering.
She didn’t stop to think of what
Tomorrow held in store.
Through tears she prayed, “I love you God.
I wish I could give more. ”
Some rich folk, showing their disdain
and overflowing pride,
laughed when they saw the woman put
her last two cents inside.
Each week she gives all that she has
Because she loves the Lord.
And since she gives all from the heart
She earns a grand reward.