Sarah Gibson

No Information except for this sweet poem made by her son, Alonzo West.

As I sat one quiet evening in the big oak easy chair,

And heard my Mother’s sweet “Goodnight” through the peaceful summer air,

I turned life’s pages back to memory’s earliest hours

And felt her dear sweet presence in my journey through the years.

Still farther back, in fancy I could see, her youthful form,

Coming through the village churchyard, with my father, arm in arm,

And in their early wedded life, how happy they were then,

When children blessed their union, in all we numbered ten.

A sudden thought came over me, one that filled my soul with awe

And of her hallowed motherhood, a vision there I saw,

I marveled at the courage of the beautiful young wife,

For she braved the very gates of death to give unto us life.

Slowly then, the fancy faded and mem’ry took its place,

And in answer to the mem’ry smiled upon her happy face;

I could hear my little sisters, laughing in their childish glee.,

And I knew that in my baby days “she” had played those games with me.

In childhood’s little sorrows, you all have known the same,

When you had tried your very best but still had lost the game:

Well these, with youth’s ambitious dreams, to her I would confide

And never did I fail to find sweet solace at her side.

Through many days of illness, which were very hard to bear,

She watched beside my troubled cot with a mother’s tender care:

And when those days were over she shared my youthful joys,

And worried much about me when I went “swimin’ with the boys”.

When Father answered Jesus call and passed beyond the veil,

Her dear sweet face for many days was very wan and pale.

Though his parting was a sad one and her soul with grief was rife

She took up the gage of battle to guide us all through life.

And in that day of sorrow, just before the parting came,

As I held my father’s trembling hand and heard him breathe her name;

I vowed to stick by mother though a lad of tender years,

And to make her journey brighter through this misty vale of tears.

And when at times she faltered wearied by the heavy strife,

And lay upon her troubled cot, touched by the ills of life,

There at her side I lingered, though pleasure’s call was loud

And in her pain I suffered, and my head in sorrow bowed.

Those troubled days are over now and mother’s young again;

And she and I are the same good “pals” that we have always been,

Through the dim and distant future though I may travel far,

My sainted mother’s memory will be my guiding star.

My friend, you have a mother quite as loving as is mine,

And if in heaven’s reunion the transcendent star would shine

Or if in life’s long journey “real” pleasure you would take

Get acquainted with your mother and live true for her dear sake.

I know she’ll always love you as long as life remains,

And in God’s great kingdom a place you’ll surely gain,

Make every day a “Mother’s Day” until the journey’s end;

For mother dear, “God bless her,” is everyone’s best friend.