God sent an angel to the earth in lowly guise she came,
She was kind and tolerant and Mary was her name.
Oh, she did the work around the house, for all the careless throng,
And as she worked she'd sometimes sing a tuneless little song.
To me her voice was beautiful, and oft' times at her knees,
And little tuneless song you know would cheer and comfort me,
Oh she had that happy little knack, with a smile that lit her face
To ease the strain of those in pain and poor souls in disgrace.
Though her hands were worn and rubbed and when they stroked your brow,
They were cool and soft as silk, wish I could hold them now,
Our love for her it was sincere, in careless way you know,
We'd go places so to mask, if so she would let them go.
But even dad neglected her, yet loved her just the same,
as on that day that little church when she first took his name,
Years went by and hair turned grey, her face a little lined,
The only way she seemed to change was sweeter and more kind.
Then her footsteps faulted just a bit and her work took over long,
At times we did not hear her sing that tuneless little song,
God must have seen the many ways in which we caused her pain,
For He called one night when all was still and He took her home again.
Oh we miss her more than words can tell, but with our opened eyes,
We learned at last that mothers are angels in disguise.

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