A Hard-Working Man
The weathered skin, The callused hands, Told the story of a hard-working man.
Dirt under his nails, Grease on his skin, The wrinkles on his face; The full, but tired, grin.
The gash on his arm And the scars on his hands; This is the story of a hard-working man.
But what I remember of this hard-working man Is not all of the physical signs But what was under his tan.
The mischievous grin; The twinkle in his eye When you knew he was going to tell you a lie.
The gruffness in his voice; The roughness of his skin That hid the true man His heart hid within.
He always thought of others and helped when he could. When he promised to do something, you could bet that he would.
A man of his word, well respected by all; A man so proud, he could never fall.
His gentle hugs and wet kiss Is something that we all will surely miss.
He was a wise man, working so very hard, While his girls played in the rocky front yard.
The way he said "Yup" When I'd say "I love you" Was his way of saying that he loved me too.
I'm going to miss this man Who was my dear friend. I'm truly going to miss my wonderful dad, Jim.
The song that is playing is The Old Rugged Cross.
It was my father's favorite song.
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, The emblem of suffering and shame; And I love that old cross where the dearest and best For a world of lost sinners was slain. So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown. O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, Has a wondrous attraction for me; For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above To bear it to dark Calvary. So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown. In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine, A wondrous beauty I see, For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died, To pardon and sanctify me. So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown. To the old rugged cross I will ever be true; Its shame and reproach gladly bear; Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away, Where His glory forever I’ll share. So I'll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.
