THE BOOK

The book is finished.
The last chapter has been written.
Now let us put it upon the shelf,
But not to gather dust.

No, let us put it in our heart
Not wear it around our neck.
It was never penned to be a millstone,
But a loving guide.

We cannot read the book as say "what if",
But we must read it as "what was"
And with this we must go forward
And apply what we have learned for the furure.

Oh the book takes many turns
Pages full of new discoveries
Pages full of fun and laughter
Pages full of family warmth.

Oh the dark sad pages we must read also
Oh how I wish it didn't have to be,
But through the dark there always broke
A ray of light, hope, and most of all family love.

Oh what a map the authors have left us
Not so much as how to go,
But where we have been
And what roads not to travel.

No this is not a book to be put on a shelf
This book you read many times a day.
We smile at some pages and cry at others.
This book we will always carry in our heart.

No the book is not finished,
But we are merely starting a new volume
For the quill has been handed down
And we must carry on.

Oh, this old family book
It's taught us as best it could
Now we must forge on into the future,
But never lose sight of our past.



Written in loving memory of my Grandparents: Charlie & Eula Lee
Eugene & Alberta Roberts and a very special Aunt Ida Roberts.
All of whom help make me the man I am today.

Charles W. Lee
February, 1997