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Words of Sympathy > Words for Child

The Ninth Pallbearer
by Dale E. Harmon

It was so sad,
With a tear in every eye,
To see this little lad,
We had all came to say goodbye,
The day they buried his Dad.

By his young bride,
She had chosen eight,
To assist in her husband's final ride,
Heaven had called him, aged almost
twenty eight.

This little lad,
His only son, aged seven,
So very sad,
There to send his Dad's body to heaven.

This we know is true,
For this soul so very new,
Taken before his time,
For no apparent reason or rhyme.

This promise kept,
As the family wept,
Life is eternal,
As written in God's Journal.

The courage of this lad,
Even him so very sad,
Yes, his courage makes one glad.
The day they buried his Dad.

His mother had chosen,
Brave men, eight,
With others in sadness frozen,
Stepped the bravest so his Dad would
not be late.

With four on each side,
Came this little boy,
For him there was no joy,
For his Dad was on his final ride.

At the lead,
Came this lad with courage,
To carry his Dad,
During this sad entourage.

I will not lie,
For put a tear in my eye,
To see this little guy,
Who was trying not to cry.

His Mom picked eight,
For with the Lord his Dad had a date,
But with his sure gate,
His Dad surely would not be late.

With the Lord his Dad had to dine,
This Pallbearer number nine,
This Grandson of mine,
With courage divine.

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