Mother sits in her old armchair
With withered hands and silver hair;
Her loved ones have wandered far away;
No one to tell her it's Mother's Day.
Now ye who have a Mother dear,
Remember her one day in each year,
With just a little card of printed lines,
That she may read in prose or rhymes.
Ye who wear a little white rose,
Tell of a Mother in sweet repose;
Though she may be far away,
Strew your flowers while you may.
By Mattie Lou Winesett - 1920
Note: Mattie's mother, Nancy Payne Felts
lived with Mattie and Alex for 25 years
until her death at age 92 in 1929.
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