I have a grandma that is really old and gray,
But I don’t care, if she looks that way;
She is always glad as glad can be
When we come to see her, Brother Bill and me.
We live away out in the country you know,
When we get to grandma’s, it’s hungry we grow;
In her pantry there is always something good to eat,
An orange, an apple, perhaps a soft piece of meat
To put between bread, it surely tastes fine;
There can be none better than that grandma of mine.
Did you have a grandma that would treat you like this?
Always a great big hug, so glad to see you, and a kiss;
But never on my mouth, for she says roses linger there;
Way up on my forehead, think it’s very near my hair.
Then she sits and holds me, while Bill leans on her knee,
And then I’m just as happy as I possibly can be;
Then she says, “Now say your prayers, and to your grandma show
The lines your ma has taught you, and all the verse you know.”
But somehow, when I said “The Lord my Shepherd is,”
She held me so much closer, cause not one word did I miss;
And Bill, he joined, but often missed a line;
He’s not three years old, yet, but really doing fine.
I’m going to be a big girl, as sure as you’re alive,
When my next birthday comes, then I will be just five,
Then I’m going to wear a long dress and specs, like grandma, too,
And folks will pass and say, Miss Dorothea, how de do.
I’m going to learn to play and sing and be a lady fine,
’Cause I will be real careful and study every line.
And then I’ll be too old for dolls, I’ll put them on a chair,
For we have been such good friends, think I should treat them fair;
I’ll be too big for hair bows—oh, dear, what shall I do;
Well, I’ll go down to grandma’s, and settle it with you.
Good-By, Daddy.
A scene so sad, so very sad, how can I e’er forget,
They seemed to know each other, whom they had not even met;
The friends of these brave soldiers, in sorrow bent and sore,
For fear these sons have parted, and will never see them more.
Just one more kiss for daddy, dear sweetheart, don’t be sad,
When I get to camp, dear, you shall daily hear from dad;
Two lovers stood beside the train, good-bye, a last embrace,
A moment later he was gone; the tears streamed down her face.
And many hearts were aching, and many eyes were dim,
And many prayers were offered; Oh, God, take care of him,
And bring him back in safety, when this great war is o’er,
Then we will be so happy; we will ask for nothing more.
July 18, 1918—On this day 556 men left Kansas City for various
camps, at the Union Station, Kansas City, Mo.