I see Him working by my husband's side
Within the shop where Joseph plies his trade;
And I, His mother, Mary, watch Him smile
With satisfaction at some chair He's made.

I proudly marvel at His purity--
The beauty of His glowing, godly face--
How quickly He has done each given task,
His every movement rich in loving grace!

I watch Him cross the dark'ning room and pause
Beside the moonlit window, looking out.
His lips move silently in prayer; He prays
For that great work that He must be about.

O Jesus, once my tiny, blessed babe,
How dearly I would hold You to me still,
And yet my heart must bid You leave this house
That You may do Your heavenly Father's will!

I weep for all
the suffering and pain
That shall be given You
henceforth to bear,
And still my tears reflect
a mother's joy
That in Your glorious purpose
I may share.