Some would gather money
Along the path of life.
Some would gather roses
And rest from earthly strife.
But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin;
I would seek a golden curl
And a freckled, toothless grin.
For money cannot enter
Into the land of endless day.
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.
But, oh, the laughing children
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven
I can take them in with me.
- Anonymous
