"Twas long ago I read
the story sweet -

Of how the German mothers, 
o'er the sea,

Wind in, througout the yarn
their girlies knit,

Some trinkets small,
and tiny shining coins,

That when the little fingers
weary grow,

And fain would lay aside 
the tiresome task,

From out the ball will drop
the hidden gift,

To please and urge them on 
in search for more.

And so, I think, 
the Father's kind above

Winds in and out the skein
of life we weave,

Through all the years, 
bright tokens of His love,

That when we weary grow 
and long for rest

The help to cheer and 
urge us on for more;

And far adown within 
the ball we find,

When all the threads of life
at last are spun,

The grandest gift of 
all-eternal life."

~ Annonymous