OUR MISSIONARY BOYS

As a couple of senior missionaries our families we do miss,
And our small cozy home full of contentment and bliss,
We miss the children and grandchildren, their funny ways,
We thought we’d miss parenting, a year of lonely days.

But in the city where we serve are two missionaries brave,
Who in this city of Flin Flon lost souls are trying to save,
Sometimes the members feed them, sometimes they forget to eat,
So we make sure they are fed and have a nice occasional treat.

Elders Erickson and Freeman our two young men strong and true,
Trying their best to proselyte, sometimes fail and so feel quite blue,
All of us try to teach the gospel and serve in this tiny branch,
We and our two missionaries, I don’t think we came here by chance.

We will feed our two missionary boys, love them as well,
Try and spread the gospel, spread cheer to all those who dwell
Here in the far north, today it’s only just minus twenty-nine,
When it gets cold I hope our two missionary boys don’t whine.

We will feed them, make them treats, share our hot chocolate,
Make sure they don’t turn into pumpkins by being out too late.
We will go out together at lower than minus thirty-five
And sing Christmas carols, that will keep our testimony alive.

It’s good to have someone to care for, we have two missionary boys,
We are even keeping their gifts so they’ll have Christmas cheer.
For we know that they would be tempted to unwrap them and look,
Then have nothing to open, not even a boring old book.

Thank you missionary boys for letting us try and look after you,
We know you are grown, sensible, (ha ha) and know what to do,
But as parents of children, we know you may not always take care.
So that is why our door is always open so you know we are there.

M Ann Margetson December 11, 2001