On a dusty shelf sits
A little worn chest
All tarnished and stained
Full of what I love best
It's hinges are loose
It is ugly and old
But precious to me
Is the treasure it holds
I sweep off the cobwebs
And open the lid
The tears start to fall
As I face what I've hid
A small faded blanket,
Smooth wooden blocks,
And most cherished of all,
Some little white socks
They are incredibly tiny
With frail white lace trim
Full of memories, of joy,
And a white room, very dim
Little hands, little feet,
And a sweet little face
The vibrant young life,
Death came to replace
I stroke the soft fabric
With rough, calloused hands,
Pondering the deep sorrows
Only a mother understands
Peace slowly enters my soul
Floods my heart, and then,
I know for a surety
I will see her again
I sit in quiet thought
As my eyes overflow
And I thank my great Lord
For what he did long ago
I then gather my treasures
And close the dear box
Full of hope, and of love,
and of little white socks
A little worn chest
All tarnished and stained
Full of what I love best
It's hinges are loose
It is ugly and old
But precious to me
Is the treasure it holds
I sweep off the cobwebs
And open the lid
The tears start to fall
As I face what I've hid
A small faded blanket,
Smooth wooden blocks,
And most cherished of all,
Some little white socks
They are incredibly tiny
With frail white lace trim
Full of memories, of joy,
And a white room, very dim
Little hands, little feet,
And a sweet little face
The vibrant young life,
Death came to replace
I stroke the soft fabric
With rough, calloused hands,
Pondering the deep sorrows
Only a mother understands
Peace slowly enters my soul
Floods my heart, and then,
I know for a surety
I will see her again
I sit in quiet thought
As my eyes overflow
And I thank my great Lord
For what he did long ago
I then gather my treasures
And close the dear box
Full of hope, and of love,
and of little white socks
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