I was looking in some things trying to find that thing that was misplaced, ... alright lost... and ran across this poem which I thought you might all enjoy...
This is a poem which was written by Gordon Dean Howey when he was in San Diego, at Christmas time. Grandpa Arlo read it at his funeral in the obituary.
Life is such a mystery
With all its ups and downs,
One never knows for certain
What tomorrow will bring around.
Each day has so many challenges
Sometimes I wonder what I'll do,
Consider defeat, toss in the towel,
And then I think of you.
God's gifts to men are different
No two are quite the same
To some he gives riches and beauty,
But who am I to complain.
Because beauty may wither and wrinkle
Riches can vanish without a clue,
God's present to me is enduring and priceless,
You see -- His gift to me is you.
This is a poem which was written by Gordon Dean Howey when he was in San Diego, at Christmas time. Grandpa Arlo read it at his funeral in the obituary.
Life is such a mystery
With all its ups and downs,
One never knows for certain
What tomorrow will bring around.
Each day has so many challenges
Sometimes I wonder what I'll do,
Consider defeat, toss in the towel,
And then I think of you.
God's gifts to men are different
No two are quite the same
To some he gives riches and beauty,
But who am I to complain.
Because beauty may wither and wrinkle
Riches can vanish without a clue,
God's present to me is enduring and priceless,
You see -- His gift to me is you.
3 comments:
Gloria, Thank you for posting that poem. Gordon was a special part of our family.
I miss Gordon. I remember when he was still in the Navy and we went to visit him in San Diego. We had a lot of fun and he was really gracious as a host. We all slept on his living room floor.
I get somewhat sad when I think of Gordon.
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