The Cookie-Lady

She is gentle, kind and fair,

And there's silver in her hair;

She has known the touch of sorrow,

But the smile of her is sweet;

And sometimes it seems to me

That her mission is to be

The gracious cookie-lady

To the youngsters of the street.

All the children in the block

Daily stand beside the crock,

Where she keeps the sugar cookies

That the little folks enjoy;

And no morning passes o'er

That a tapping at her door

Does n't warn her of the visit

Of a certain little boy.

She has made him feel that he

Has a natural right to be

In her kitchen when she's baking

Pies and cakes and ginger bread;

And each night to me he brings

All the pretty, tender things

About little by-gone children

That the cookie-lady said.

Oh, dear cookie-lady sweet,

May you beautify our street

With your kind and gentle presence

Many more glad years, I pray;

May the skies be bright above you,

As you've taught our babes to love you;

You will scar their hearts with sorrow

If you ever go away.

Life is strange, and when I scan it,

I believe God tries to plan it,

So that where He sends his babies

In that neighborhood to dwell,

One of rare and gracious beauty

Shall abide, whose sweetest duty

Is to be the cookie-lady

That the children love so well.