Who's Gonna Bake the Christmas Pie
He was six years old at his dying mother's side.
Only when she slept he broke down and cried.
He had to hide his fears of what was to be.
How scared he was, mama didn't need to see.
Mama had been sick going on three years now.
She knew she must help him make it through some how.
With her strength fading she called him to her side.
"If life is a carnival son, I'm at my last ride."
"I have something to tell you, to remember for all times."
"You are all each other will have in the coming hard times."
"Just hold each other close and remember my love for you."
"It will help to ease the pain, it will help to see you through."
The day came when his Mama had to go.
He had so many questions, so much he wanted to know.
"Why did Mama have to die?" "Who's gonna bake the Christmas pie?"
"Who will comfort me when I cry?" "Are you gonna die?"
I squatted down in front of him a tear in my eye.
"An unfortunate part of life, son, is each of us will die."
He'd caught me off guard, I didn't know what to say.
I hoped he understood. I hoped... and I prayed.
I took him in my arms and held him oh so tight.
I told him that I loved him and that everything would be all right.
"Mama's in heaven now she's looking down on you and me."
"She's with us in our hearts where forever she will be."
"She sees you when you're crying she sees you when you're playing."
"She knows what you're thinking she knows what you're saying."
"She sees into your heart and knows how much you love her."
"So let's have happy thoughts of Mama and the time we had together."
The days have turned to weeks, the weeks to months and years.
Our thoughts of Mama are happy, they hold away the fears.
She still fills our hearts with memories. Memories of her love.
Memories of Mama sent down from heaven above.
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