I dedicate this writing to my Mother, Dorothy E. Yoder-Bupp, 1909-1992.
The Old House on the Hill
It looks lonely, that old house on the hill.
Not long ago there were children playing in the yard,
Playing pitch and catch or perhaps stroking a purring cat
While their Mother toiled in the garden and their Father worked in the barn.
It looks lonely, that old house on the hill.
Where are the cows in the pasture or the hens and the roosters for that matter?
Or the aunts, uncles, and cousins who always visited when we were making hay?
It looks lonely, that old house on the hill.
The garden is gone where Mother spent her summer waking hours till bed
Raising food for her family and all who needed to be fed.
She only asked for enough strength for the day
And a few song birds to sing to her along the way.
It looks lonely, that old house on the hill.
She now works in her heavenly garden, planting onions and carrots and sowing some lettuce.
Gardening to her was never work but a source of joy and fun
As she returned praise to her Heavenly Father for the rain and sun.
James R. Bupp
Great poem, and a great tribute to a wonderful person — Dorothy, your Mother and my Aunt. Cousin Leland
Lee,
Somedays I’m still there. It’s like I never left! I hope that all is well with you and your family.
Jim……what a lovely tribute to your mother. What I remember most about her was her laugh.
She was always smiling and yes…….always in her garden or flower bed when we would drive by.
Strange what we remember isn’t it……
Margaret,
Thank you for remembering with me. We didn’t have much but we had everything that we needed! You have a happy Mother’s day.