My Gramma had been awful sick,
She went to sleep and died,
God took her straight to heaven then,
And sat her by His side.


I didn't want for her to go,
And be so far away,
But I guess God had dibs on her,
There was nothing I could say.


I wonder if she's happy there,
If she's having any fun,
If she's met an Angel yet,
Or...maybe...she is one?


Will Gramma get a choice,
Between a rocking chair and wings?
Can she make Jesus sit real still,
To hear the angels sing?


You think she'll tell Him Bible tales,
Like she used to tell to me,
Although, I'm sure He's much too big,
To fit on Gramma's knee.


S'pose they play fun games up there?
Do you guess she'll get a cat?
Will she go to Sunday church,
And wear her flowered hat?


I wonder can she tell Jesus,
Exactly what to do,
Like, "Sit up straight; don't slump
So much; mind your elders, too?"


Do you suppose she'll make Him smile,
And give him things to eat?
Let Him lick the frosting bowl,
And sneak Him little treats?


I guess Jesus needs a Gramma, too,
To hug Him when He cries,
To put some band-aids on His hands,
Kiss the tear drops from His eyes.


I'll bet Gramma will like heaven,
'Cuz her fav'rite color's blue,
But, I hope she won't forget me,
And still will love me, too.


My Mom says Gramma's better off,
Has no more aches or pains,
I'm glad her hurts are all gone now,
And, I don't mean to complain.


And, now that I am bigger, too,
I guess I understand,
Why Gramma went to heaven,
Mom says it is God's plan.


I think He needs my Gramma more
Than me, down here below,
And, I'd rather have her at God's house,
Than any place I know.

by Virginia ( Ginny) Ellis
copyright 2000






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