Don't Thank Me!

I've been released, I have to go.
You want to say thanks, but please, no -
I must thank you, I've been over paid,
At my door were the blessings laid.

If I looked extra happy, when doing my job
It's because I felt needed, by my friends and my God.
I've stored away treasures in Heaven this year
And gained new friendships, I'll always hold dear.

My testimony has been enriched
Some old habits I've even ditched.
So you see I've gained, and what did I give?
Did I do my best, and a good example live?

Well, - the good Lord and I - we know I tried,
But could have done better, that can't be denied.
So please don't thank me, I want to thank you,
For the encouragement, the help. those things that you do.

But especially to thank the Lord up above
For His mercy, His wisdom, His counsel and love
And pray that soon He'll choose me again
To help serve - and be helped by me fellow men.

barbara cope
copyright 1964

A Testimony

It's a funny thing about a testimony,

You can't put it back on a shelf

You can't let it rest

You can't let it hide

Or it will disintegrate itself.

You may think it sure

You may be content

And say, "I have quiet enough

Of fasting and study and praying

And all the religious stuff."

But sure as you do

And sure as you fail

To build, to strengthen, to strive

You'll find that your precious testimony

May no longer be alive.

So give it a kick!

A shot in the arm,

Stop the excuses and the baloney.

It's time to strive, to work and revive

Your precious testimony!

barbara cope

copyright 1970

My Chrysanthemums

I have a small vase with large, white, bright chrysanthemums

On  my kitchen window.

Three things are special about them.

First , they were given to me by a very handsome young man,

Out of love, and a desire to please.

Though - the stems are too short and they were not yet in full bloom.

Second, I had planted them myself a year ago -

And although they had been neglected,

And left un-watered through the summer heat,

An had been abused by the children's play,

They still persevered

And brought pleasure to me today.

And third, although as I mentioned, 

When Brent gave them to me,

They were not in their prettiest bloom,

Each day , they grow more beautiful

And more bright and white,

And bring more happiness into my kitchen.

I wish I were like the chrysanthemums.

Growing strong on my own -

Through the discomforts of life -

Unruffled by the children's play -

And always ready to give of myself 

To make another's day brighter and happier.

barbara cope
copyright  Oct. 29, 1967

Our Breakfast Room

In the corner of our house stand a room

     so bright and cheerful

And it holds our memories

     whether gay or tearful.

This is the room where

     memories were made,

Where through the years of family life,

     our hopes and dreams were laid.

Where mother baked her bread and goodies

     that filled us kids with sheer delight,

And daddy balanced the budget

     or played games with us till way into the night.

Where sister took the phone

     from noise to get away,

And brother worked a crossword puzzle

     on a lazy day.

Through its window the sun

     has welcomed each new day.

Around its table sat the family

     to eat or work or play.

Every house should have a room

     where memories are made,

That sits in summer sunshine

     or in the winter shade.

And turns a house into a home

     through years of love and pain

To let the children always know

     they can come home again.

barbara cope

Copyright Feb 26, 1962