C. Marvine Scott


By C. Marvine Scott

God really set a beautiful example of His amazing love for mankind when He created mothers. I will share today some of my father’s poetry expressing his love of his mother.


By Charlie Grier

God’s dear Book is full of pictures,

Every page with them is lined,

Every word He has inspired

To reveal some truth sublime.

Every saint, apostle, prophet

Has his own important place –

Each is but a little mirror

That reflects the Master’s face.

But of all the types and symbols

There is one that stands above –

Seems to me, excels all others –

It is simply mother-love.

No one else was quite so tender –

No one else was quite so kind –

No one quite so sympathetic

As was you, dear Mother mine.

Yours a life of pain and suffering –

Yours a life of toil and strife,

Yet, you thought not of your own self

As for us you spent your life.

You, it was who shared our sorrows –

You, who always understood –

You, who felt our disappointments –

Cheered us on when e’er you could.

You, who wept about our failures,

Yet, your love remained the same.

You, who prayed that God would save us

From a life of sin and shame.

You, who trusted, never faltering,

Thru the storms of deep despair

Knowing God someday would answer –

Hear, O Lord, our Mother’s prayer!

God is portrayed, very dimly,

In each life that bears His name –

May we read as “living letters”

And not put our Lord to shame (2 Cor. 3:2; Heb. 6:6)

Earth has not produced an artist –

None, save Christ, is there above

Can excel this wondrous picture –

God revealed through “mother-love!”

We also had an amazing mother. She was a loving, hard-working amazing woman who loved God with all her heart. She lovingly supported us kids in a beautiful way and one way was by praying for us.

In a difficult struggle in my younger brother’s life, she was very worried about him. I remember how she would lift her hands to heaven and pray, “Lord, you’ve got to take care of my boy. I give him to you.” She said every time panic would hit her she would do this. After about six months, he came through victoriously! What a God! And what a precious mother!

I love dad’s understanding of motherhood!


By Charlie Grier

What does it mean to be mother?

Suffering, and sorrow, and tears;

Not for a day, a week, or a month –

But the struggle of toilsome years.

Suffering, not as they suffer there –

Suffer on land, and sea, and air –

But mother’s suffering is just as keen

As any mortal has felt, or seen –

That’s what it means to be mother!

What does it mean to be mother?

Worry, and anxious care.

She lives with her boy on the battle front

She feels what he suffers there.

Those bombs are blasting at mother’s heart –

She lives in the fox holes – she feels the dart

Of the enemy thrust – of the damp and cold –

Of millions of horrors still untold –

That’s what it means to be mother!

What does it mean to be mother?

Sorrow, or pride and joy?

The question can best be answered

By mother’s own girl or boy.

That kindly face, so worn and thin,

Would beam with the light of heaven within,

If her prayer for you might answered be

For this life and eternity –

The crowning joy of mother!


By Charlie Grier

I might have been blind, but Mother’s love

Touched the heart of the One above.

He lifted the film that I might see

The beauty of mountain, plain and tree.

How good God was to my Mother and me

When He touched my eyes in my infancy!

I might have been lame, but Mother cared.

I know she prayed – she felt – she shared

The blighted life that I would face

And through her efforts, and God’s grace

My foot no more is twisted in –

Nor am I puny, weak and thin!

I might have heeded the tempter’s call –

The world with its dazzle, greed and all –

Should I follow the gang, or the Christ who died

And for MY sins was CRUCIFIED?

It was Mother’s counsel and Mother’s love

That wooed me from sin to the God above


By Charlie Grier

“The statements in the above poem are factual. The first three weeks of my life the doctors were sure I would never see. Then, at the age of four I was stricken with polio and for several years my right foot was twisted in. In His mercy, God has given me an unusually strong body in spite of these early handicaps. To Him be all the glory!”


By Charlie Grier

She is little and old and wrinkled and gray

And bent with the chill of the winter’s day,

But I love each lock of that faded hair –

That brow that is wrinkled and lined with care;

As she sits alone in that old arm chair,

I know she is breathing my name in prayer –

My own beloved Mother!

She is little and old and wrinkled and gray

And bent with the chill of the winter’s day,

But once she was young and charming and fair –

Her face was not marked with the lines of care –

No silver then streaked her auburn hair,

If I have carelessly placed some there

Forgive me, precious Mother!

She is little and old and wrinkled and gray

And bent with the chill of the winter’s day,

But one day, I know, in that City Fair

With no more pain, sorrow or care,

My Mother will shine as a jewel rare –

Lord Jesus, I do want to meet her there –

My beautiful sainted Mother!



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