She thought, when night had finally ended day,
"Dear Lord, tonight I am too tired to pray,"
And wearily she closed her eyes in sleep,
Slipping far into the shadowed deep.

Up in heaven the dear Lord heard and smiled,
Today she soothed a little crying child.
She stopped her work to take old Ella Kloop
A fragrant, warming bowl of soup

Her house was orderly, her garden tended,
Her children fed,
their cloths all clean and mended.

Her husband, home from work,
found happiness
And quiet peace in her deep
gentleness.

The dear Lord smiled again,

"Too tired to Pray?

Her hands have offered prayers of love all day."

by Jane Coffin