(This is a painting taken from a black and white photograph of Paul’s great grandparents home.)
ORIGINAL ART & POETRY BY PAUL AND KATHY BOECHER©
A cobblestone path, surrounded by trees
Leads up to a house constructed of mortar and brick,
With shutters for shade, preventing a freeze,
The doors were not locked, its light was a lone candlestick,
A fire to cook on and warmth to provide,
When the days danced through autumn and trees lost their splendor,
More wood would be needed for warmth inside,
They never complained though their bodies grew worn and tender,
A plain, simple house, with acres to till,
A place to call home, with labor that required hours,
A long time ago the time oft stood still,
But springtime allowed them to smell freshly cut flowers,
They looked to the earth to provide them with food,
They planted the seeds and waited for God’s nourishment,
They harvested crops, gave thanks for the good,
They never gave up or gave in to discouragement.
That old fashioned life is all but forgot,
We depend upon others to provide for our needs,
God takes a back seat, but gone He is not,
We think we control and rely on our deeds,
Our deeds do not save, our works are outcomes,
Of hearts that are thankful for all that Jesus has done,
He set our souls free, our sin he becomes,
When He died on a cross, our victory o’er death He won.
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