My Mother (By: Ruth Graham)

As the portrait is unconscious
of the master artist’s touch,
unaware of growing beauty,
unaware of changing much,
so you have not guessed His working
in your life throughout each year,
have not seen the growing beauty
have not sensed it Mother dear.
We have seen and marveled greatly
at the Master Artist’s skill,
marveled at the lovely picture
daily growing lovelier still;
watched His brush strokes
change each feature
to a likeness of His face,
till in you we see the Master,
feel His presence, glimpse His grace;
pray the fragrance of His presence
may through you seem doubly sweet,
till your years on earth are ended
and the portrait is complete.

My Mother (By: Ruth Graham)