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| When the good Lord was creating fathers He started with a tall frame. And a female angel nearby said, "What kind of father is that? If You're going to make children so close to the ground, why have You put fathers up so high? He won't be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping." And God smiled and said, "Yes, but if I make him child-size, who would children have to look up to?" And when God made a father's hands, they were large and sinewy. And the angel shook her head sadly and said, "Do You know what You're doing? Large hands are clumsy. They can't manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on pony tails or even remove splinters caused by baseball bats." And God smiled and said, "I know, but they're large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day ... yet small enough to cup a child's face." And then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders. And the angel nearly had a heart attack. "Boy, this is the end of the week, all right," she clucked. "Do You realize You just made a Father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?" And God smiled and said, "A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus." God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. "That's not fair. Do You honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?" And God smiled and said, "They'll work. You'll see. They'll support a small child who wants to `ride a horse to Banbury Cross,´ or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill." God worked throughout the night, giving the father few words, but a firm, authoritative voice; eyes that saw everything, but remained calm and tolerant. Finally, almost as an afterthought, He added--tears. Then He turned to the angel and said, "Now, are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?" The angel shutteth up. Erma Bombeck · 1974 |
Daddy's Hands · MIDI
| I remember daddy's hands folded silently in prayer, And reachin' out to hold me when I had a nightmare. You could read quite a story in the callouses and lines, Years of work and worry had left their mark behind. I remember daddy's hands, how they held my momma tight, And patted my back for something done right. There are things I've forgotten that I loved about the man, But I'll always remember the love in daddy's hands. Daddy's hands, soft and kind when I was cryin', Daddy's hands, hard as steel when I done wrong. Daddy's hands weren't always gentle, But I've come to understand, There was always love in daddy's hands. I remember daddy's hands, workin til they bled, Sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed. If I could do things over I'd live my life again, And never take for granted the love in daddy's hands. Daddy's hands, soft and kind when I was cryin', Daddy's hands, hard as steel when I done wrong. Daddy's hands weren't always gentle but I've come to understand, There was always love in daddy's hands. Daddy's hands, soft and kind when I was cryin', Daddy's hands, hard as steel when I done wrong. Daddy's hands weren't always gentle but I've come to understand, There was always love in daddy's hands. Holly Dunn · 1986 |
The Living Years · MIDI
| Every generation Blames the one before And all of their frustrations Come beating on your door I know that I'm a prisoner To all my father held so dear I know that I'm a hostage To all his hopes and fears I just wish I could have told him in the living years Crumpled bits of paper Filled with imperfect thought Stilted conversations I'm afraid that's all we've got You say you just don't see it He says it's perfect sense You just can't get agreement In this present tense We all talk a different language Talking in defense Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It's too late when we die To admit we don't see eye to eye So we open up a quarrel Between the present and the past We only sacrifice the future It's the bitterness that lasts So don't yield to the fortunes You sometimes see as fate It may have a new perspective On a different day And if you don't give up, and don't give in You may just be OK. Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It's too late when we die To admit we don't see eye to eye I wasn't there that morning When my father passed away I didn't get to tell him All the things I had to say I think I caught his spirit Later that same year I'm sure I heard his echo In my baby's newborn tears I just wish I could have told him in the living years Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It's too late when we die To admit we don't see eye to eye Mike Rutherford · 1988 |
frank thomas sherman
2/16/22 to 5/24/95
MIDI
"i will always love you" dolly parton · sequencer unkown
"forever young" rod stewart ~ sequencer unknown