When they knelt in prayer by their beds at night,

Or said: "children, now don't you fight,"

We could hear their wings.
 

When they fed the hungry, or gave clothes to the poor

Although they often had little more,

We could hear their wings.
 

When they helped raise children not their own

That fate had deprived of a loving home,

We could hear their wings.
 

As they taught us to love and not to hate

And said: that forgiveness, was love's mate,

We could hear their wings.
 

As they told us not to judge by the color of skin,

Or the condition someone might be in,

We could hear their wings.

We know their message came from above

Where they live in God's Great Love.  

They have put on their wings.

In Loving Memory of Mother Jennie A. (Stewart) Chase and  Father John B. Chase,
who taught me by deed and word to be better than I am.