They Call Her Mother

There's a store by the road in the country

Among the hills where the evergreens grow

In that store by the road there's a woman

Who is different from others I know

Now her irony-grey hair's turned to silver

And her kind eyes are ever soft and blue

Always she has a kind word for others

And a smile ever waiting for you

She's adored for her sunny disposition

By the women, the children and men

In all the neighboring hills they call her Mother

For she's really a mother dear to them

She is cheerful like the birds in the cedars

She is modest like the songs that they sing

In the hills nearby they call her Mother

For she's really a mother true to them

When the clouds hang low on the mountain

And the pines are bent low by the snow

Neighbors go to that store by the roadside

It's a place that they all love to go

Some go there to play cards at the table

Some just sit by the warm, cheering fire

And dear Mother with kind disposition

Finds a way to make all happy there

She's adored for her sunny disposition

By the women, the children and the men

In all the neighboring hills they call her Mother

For she's really a mother dear to them