Mother of Three

A mother I am, a mother of three.

A mother of sons I was not meant to be.

I prayed for a son "for my husband," I said.

"I'll take any kind-even hair that is red,

or no hair at all will be all right with me."

But a mother of sons I was not meant to be.

I made frilly dresses for three little girls,

Made Easter bonnets to cover their curls,

And gave up my dreams for a son finally.

A mother of sons I was not meant to be.

I made wedding dresses for three grown-up girls,

Made satin bonnets to hold wedding veils.

God answers prayers in his own way, you see,

And soon gave me grandsons, not one, but three!

A mother of sons was not meant for me.

A mother of grandsons, He meant me to be.