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May I Tell You a Story?


Mom and I sat on the rest home porch

As May’s sun gave a golden glow.

Rocking side by side in wooden chairs,

Like we had done so long ago.


My mind slipped back to childhood days,

When we would sit and rock for hours;

I thought of Mom’s little garden and smiled

When I recalled how she talked to her flowers:


“Mr. Tulip, have a drink of this water;

Save a little for Iris and Lily too.

Okay, Daisy Dear, you’ve had enough.

Violet, you’re next, when Zinnia is through."


But these present days were so different,

For Mom’s mind would ebb and flow.

Her health was poor this eighty-fifth year;

To heaven she wanted to go.


Mom turned and saw me smiling.

She spoke with a voice weak and low,

"Would you like me to tell you a story?

I learned it a long time ago."


"A story?" I mused. Curiosity grew,

For I thought I had heard them all.

“Why, sure, Mom. I’d love to hear it.”

In the distance came a lone dove’s call.


She looked at me, then glanced heavenward.

I grew quiet as the gentle breeze.

Mom began in her sweet angelic way;

Her every word I wanted to seize.


She began to sing a melodious tune –

A hymn, I assumed it to be.

Then, in a broken but tender voice,

She sang these words to me:


"‘I love to tell the story of unseen things above,

Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true;

It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.

I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory,

To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.’"


Mom loves her Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ

And is quick to let everyone know.

Her faith in Him’s undeniable;

When He calls, she’ll be ready to go.


Later, I did some research:

Found the words to that old hymn,

And it became clear as I read them,

That Mom’s story was all about Him.


Mom’s story is now my favorite,

And often the words I rehearse;

But two lines fit her perfectly –

Those in the very last verse…


‘And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,

’Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.’


Soon Mom will be with her Lord,

Where she’ll sing and glorify His name.

As for me, after hearing her story,

Well, my life will not be the same.


Today I have two stories:

Mom’s, and the one she’s loved so long.

I smile as I think of her in heaven

And how she’ll be singing her song:


"’I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory,

To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.’"


Yes, Mom loves to tell the story;

’Twill be her theme in glory,

Where she’ll tell the old, old story

Of Jesus and His love.



© Copyright Loyd C Taylor, Sr. 2015

Some words taken from the hymn, “I Love to Tell the Story,”

by A. Katherine Hankey, 1866

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