The Ole Country Store

On a cool day in fall,
I stopped at an ole country store,
When I first stepped inside,
I noticed the ole wooden floor.

Two men were sittin' by the ole wooden stove,
Tellin' yarns of years gone by,
Of all the thing that they have seen,
While eatin' a piece of pie.

There was sawdust on the floor,
On the shelves, there was real fine linen,
Stacks of grain on the sawdust floor,
And every kind of a tool to make a livin'.

The atmosphere was so relaxed,
You'd think the world … came to a stop,
"We came here first to talk", the ole man said,
"After that my friend … we'll shop."

There seemed to be a closeness,
Simplicity here I saw,
A bond of friendship and a love for all,
There was no need for any law.

The horses they were tied outside,
The wind was gettin' cool,
This was a good time for folks to chat,
While the kids were all in school.

Those are the good ole days,
When men made a livin' from the land,
People worked in partnership,
Deals made … by the shake of a hand.

They talked of how they ploughed the fields,
Way back in early spring,
And how they knew that winter had passed,
When they heard, the Robin sing.

They planted corn and grain for feed,
To make their cattle grow,
Trustin' in the Lord for rain,
Was all … they needed to know.

Jim he's near ninety,
Sam is about eight-two,
Nothin' fancy about these men,
One had a hole in his shoe.

They told me of a story,
How they worked for a dollar a day,
Travellin' with the railroad,
Just to earn a ittle pay.

Farmin' was very hard back then,
It seemed impossible to make a livin',
But memories of what the Lord had done,
Made them thankful for what was given.

"We didn't have much boy",
As they looked me in the eye,
These ole timers would say with a grin,
Finishin' up their homemade pie.

They loved to share their memories,
For memories … never die,
We have them today and forever,
Unlike, the homemade pie.

They made me thankful for what I had,
For each has a road to hoe,
It may be different in many ways,
But how we walked it … in the end will show.

Glenn D. Gabie,
Copyright 1999