Heaven and Home

Once she gave you love’s protection
and surrounded you through prayer;
will you join your precious mother
in her heavenly mansion there?
Did you ever make a promise 
that you’d meet her up above?
She is waiting for your coming
in that land of light and love.

Life on earth is harsh and fleeting,
pain and tears both have their part;
but a better day is coming
for rejoicing from the heart.
And the Saviour of your mother
has prepared a glorious place
where you’ll share through Christ, the Saviour
all the bounties of His grace.

Yes, I’ll meet my precious mother
and each loved one—saved and blessed;
through the precious Blood of Jesus,
I have entered into rest.
Friend of mine, if you’ve been careless
and on earth you vainly roam,
turn to Christ, your mother’s Saviour,
be prepared for heaven and home!

fpn/undated



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Greatly Talented

Some people seem to shine
with clout and published name;
they’re blessed with grace and skill
which brings them earthly fame.

We call them talented,
and naturally endowed,
and thus the populace
applauds them long and loud.

Begrudging them success,
of course, would be quite wrong;
but there’s another view
that we should take along.

Just take a mother’s lot,
when faithful to her trust,
shouldn't talent be ascribed
when she fights grime and dust?

There are mothers who excel
but even those who don’t 
need talent to survive—
more chores than you can count.

Some days—not long enough,
for all that must be done;
distractions are the norm—
demands from everyone.

Instead of being praised,
too oft she’s criticized;
if she can “keep her cool,”
that’s talent, highly prized!

fpn 11/84



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Mother’s Day

Frank's parents, Sara and Peter Nickel

Let me tell you of two ladies

with great influence on my life.

My own mother is the first one

and the other is my wife.

No one else so sacrificial,

no one else could take the place

of my mother at my entry

of this world and human race.

Many hours she invested

for my comfort and my good;

needed rest was interrupted,

others slept while oft she stood.

I am told that of the knowledge

gained in all the years we live,

over half will be acquired

by the time we’re four or five.

Let me ask you—who’s the teacher?

Not just several hours each day,

but around the clock—each moment?

It’s a mother—we must say!

No, she didn’t have much schooling

but she did have common sense

and to God she had devotion;

she had faith when clouds were dense.

She knew how to make a dinner

that was tasty—wholesome too;

how she often stretched the dollar—

did with what she had to do!

Off to school I took her blessing,

knew that she would pray for me;

when in conflict with my brothers,

she would ably referee.

In the secret place, she pleaded

that the Lord my soul would save;

brought me face to face with Jesus,

who His life for sinners gave.

She had flaws and sometimes showed them;

she was human, yes, I know,

but she walked with God serenely

in this world of sin and woe.

Yes, she clothed me and she nursed me

many times when I was sick.

Oh, it really is amazing,

what makes such a mother tick!

Well, my own dear mother left me

for the land beyond the sky,

so the Lord has yet provided

for another to stand by.

An early photo of newlyweds, Frank & Eva

And I’m glad to call her “Mother,”

she has earned that title, too.

She’s the mother of our children,

who has been so kind and true.

I’m amazed at her endurance,

thankful she’s been well and strong;

trusting God, whatever happened,

keeping busy all day long.

She has done her part in teaching,

we’ve all learned from her, you see,

probably the slowest learner

is the one that I call “me.”

There is much that I could mention;

more that’s known to God alone,

but I’m glad to say she’s charming

and my love for her has grown.

We may sometimes take for granted

many blessings on this earth,

but I’ll be forever grateful

for these treasures of such worth.

In the years of life’s grand mystery,

in the quest of love’s intrigue,

they brought zest and richer living:

two fine ladies in my league.

fpn 5/77

This Wife of Mine

It’s great to think of heaven
and what we’ll find up there—
especially the people
who meant so much down here.
So many speak of mothers
who in their glory shine;
but me? I want to go there
to see that wife of mine!

I had a dandy mother
and I loved her a lot.
But she owes me some lickin’s
the which I never got.
The same for you, ol’ buddy—
to settle up the score,
suppose when she first sees you,
you’ll get a couple more!

We all get sentimental,
but let’s be practical
and bring a little heaven
to our dear earthly pal.
About her—the one God gave me
I may complain and whine,
but I still want to go to heaven
‘n be with that wife of mine!

fpn 1/81



Photo credit: Family collection

Home is Where the Heart Is

This is a tribute to our departed mother, but when Dad first wrote this poem before her death, it was for a brother's passing. He intended that the names or pronouns in the last verse be substituted to give tribute to any loved one who is "promoted to glory." We have included it today since Mom passed away 21 years ago, on Mother's Day, May 12, 1996.









Home is where the heart is,
we sometimes hear it said;
the place where we expect to find
a roof, a meal, a bed.
But there is more—a motel too
or even barracks may
accommodate our body’s needs
and serve quite comfortably.

Our hearts are not content until
some loved ones share our lot
and we commune in deeds and words—
yes, suffering, like as not.
It’s in living for each other
that our souls are gratified
and if we’d have a super home
then Christ must there abide.

How soon things change. Our loved ones go
and leave an empty place.
Then heaven’s attaction on us grows,
that new home beyond space.
Where separations cannot mar
our glad and peaceful state.
Where toil and tears and pain are past
and glorious joys await.

Our mother has gone home and we
will follow her ere long.
She’ll greet us on the other side
where we’ll unite in song
of praise to Him who died, arose,
has gone a place to prepare.
We’re going home, where our heart is,
rich fellowship to share!

fpn / 91

Honoring Mother

The Bible states, “give honor”
to whom it’s rightly due.
If we’re alert, we’ll notice
some noble traits and true
applying to our mother,
so often overlooked,
performing many duties—
like untold meals she’s cooked.

She doesn’t want our flattery,
nor worship (true of some).
Sincere appreciation
is what makes a mother hum!
Her routine is not simple—
perhaps appears that way;
but stitches, steps and service
fill many a grueling day.

Decisions! Oh, so many,
and complex, she must make;
and is she then called stupid
for making one mistake?
How many things we ask her
and she’s supposed to know—
from finding books to car keys,
and little thanks we show.

So once a year we honor
and I don’t say it’s wrong,
but this is not sufficient
to fill Mom’s life with song.
On days routine or hectic,
let’s learn to lend a hand
and thank God for a mother
He only could have planned.

fpn 5/83

Home Life Improvement

A mother is human
and to keep her from fumin’
must know that she’s appreciated.
On duty untold hours
with phenomenal powers,
yet “doesn’t work”—so she’s rated!

Through years, in her prime,
everyday, all the time,
there’s someone to watch, never ending.
Instructions go bad,
leaving her lone and sad;
“We forgot”—on us she was depending.

Distractions are sure,
on the phone, at the door.
The floors, how soon they get dirty!
Washing dishes and clothes,
countless chores, no one knows!
Yet she’s always supposed to look pretty.

If her patience wears thin,
let’s not call it a sin;
the reason to us may be hazy.
Just give her a hand;
stop to think—understand!
Maybe some of us really are lazy.

Don’t just throw things around
on the dresser or ground;
try to spare her some unneeded movement.
If she knows that you care,
and at least try to share,
your home life will show great improvement!

fpn 5/85


Photo Credit: Deposit Photo #143391975, standard license

What is a Mother?

It’s sad to see a mother
who actually is not.
A real one has the instinct
to care—and care a lot!

Her heart enfolds a husband—
she first becomes a wife;
and then she’ll cross death’s valley
to bring a child to life.

At least a thousand details
engage her mind each day;
in order not to miss some,
she’ll take the time to pray.

And when it comes to money
somehow she’ll make ends meet,
yet serve a meal nutritious
including something sweet.

Explaining a good mother—
most complicated trick,
the Bible says she’s priceless.
What really makes her tick?

fpn / May 1981



Photo Credit: Deposit Photos #44422685, standard license

A Mother’s Qualifications

This week features poems in honor of mothers.











There’s more to being a mother
than having a child or two;
it takes a “heap of living”
and doing, to make it so.
In fact, a childless lady
may also qualify,
by care of other’s children
whose fate has gone awry.

One word stands in conjunction
with “mother”—it is “home.”
You cannot separate them—
the point of many a poem.
And mom’s the one who makes it
a sweet and tidy place;
without her touch it could not
reveal such charm and grace.

She doesn’t call it boredom—
those repetitious chores;
the cooking and the laundry
and cleaning of the floors.
The work is not what thrills her
but what she sees beyond:
it’s love for dad and children
that makes her calling fond.

We’re all too quick to grumble
and slow to lend a hand;
and how we take for granted
delicious meals she’s planned.
Though pained, she makes allowance
when her failures we berate;
now, don’t you agree we often
should say, “Hey, Mom, you’re great!”

fpn / undated



Photo Credit: Deposit Photos #71535455, standard license