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.
