Far from the place where my cradle stood
                                            My widowed mother struggled and strove
                                            Against heavy odds with children three,
                                            But patient and trusting in God was she.

                                            Want and work was our daily bread;
                                            We children oft went hungry to bed.
                                            She early in life sickened and died
                                            Thus ending her struggles.  She was sorely tired.

                                            I, young as I was, found a faithful friend;
                                            Tried and true to the very end,
                                            We had many children and trials too
                                            And had to make shift as poor folk do.

                                            All too soon my youth took flight
                                            Like the roses in spring that die in the night.
                                            Life's bright morning soon changed to gloom
                                            Dark clouds arose with threatening doom.

                                            Thus passed the weary years away
                                            With labor and changing toil each day.
                                            Then came the Gospel's welcome sound
                                            We heard it gladly and happiness found.

                                            But the towers of darkness can stand
                                            The light that shines and brings joy to man.
                                            With children eight we were driven from home
                                            Into a cheerless world to roam.

                                            An industrious man soon finds his place
                                            This also happened in my husband's case.
                                            We found a living and were satisfied
                                            Though work was hard, it had its reward.

                                            Hope springs ever and laughs at want
                                            We stove to reach the Promised Land
                                            Where God could our labor approve and bless
                                            And we might live in happiness.

                                            Now I have reached my life's great goal
                                            But have also tasted the bitter cup
                                            Of parting from those I have loved best
                                            Yet through it all I was greatly blest.

                                            Now my dear children, who alone must stand
                                            Without your parents helping hand,
                                            Keep faith with him who all power is given
                                            He will erase your burden and grant you Heaven.

                                            Listen, my children, to my last few words
                                            Think not that on earth only roses grow.
                                            No, thither beyond, on the Blessed Shore
                                            Neither trial nor thorns will hurt anymore.

                                            Written by Marie Eriksen
                                            (the last two stanza's were written shortly before her death)
 
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