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