Viola M. Crider
When Day Is Done
When day is done and shadows fall
On this busy world below—
‘Tis during these hours that I recall,
Memories of long ago.
Memories of when we were young,
With a devoted mom and dad—
Memories of the song we sang,
and of the love for us they had.
They taught us about the bible—
Each and every Wednesday night;
They taught of things that were liable
To befall us when we didn’t obey their right.
Every Thursday was our family prayer night
As soon as our chores were done,
We’d kneel around the brass bed, little hands clasped tight, ...