Let me call you Mother

I'm just a native Yankee
My home's in Tennessee
Every hill and valley
Hold familiar haunts to me


I always was a worker
I never did get blue
But my heart was very lonely
Till I met you


Let me call you "Mother"
There is no other
That can cheer my heart like you
Tho' I'm not so old and gray
I have lived to see the day
When I yearned for a Mother like you.


Tho' a Yankee loves freedom
There are things we must allow
I'd like to have the liberty
To kiss you on the brow


I love your hair, altho tis gray
I love your eyes so blue
To crown my Yankee freedom
I want a Mother like you.

 

Written by Ida May Schaffer

Fall of 1921

Age of 15