Some would gather money along their path of life.
Some would gather roses and
the rest from earthly strite.
But I would gather children from among the thorns of sin.
I would seek some little curl or an awkward toothless grin.
For money cannot enter in the land of endless days.
And roses that are gathered soon will wilt along the way.
But oh, the laughing children as I cross that sunset sea
And the gates swing wide to heaven, I can bring them in with me.
- author unknown
