She always learned to watch for us

Anxious if we were late

In winter by the window

In summer by the gate

And though we mocked her tenderly

Who had such foolish care

The long way home would seem more safe

Because she waited there

Her thoughts were all so full of us

She never could forget!

And so I think that where she is

She must be watching yet

Waiting til we come home to her

Anxious if we're late

Watching from Heaven's window

Leaning from Heaven's gate.

By Margaret Widdemer 1880 - 1979

American Novelist and Poet