Then I asked her if she loved me
When at home and when away,
If she loved her own dear mama
Just the same day after day?
Her answered came so unexpected,
"Yes I love you, don't you know?"
But you do not tell me mama,
Where is God? I would like to know.
If he is everywhere deal' mama
And can see and hear us too,
I should think that we might see him,
Tell me mama, wouldn't you?
Then I told her on the mountain,
Pointing nearer to the sky,
And below the ocean's billows,
God was there and yet on high.
In the church and on the highway,
Down deep in the mine,
In the sick-room, on the death-bed,
God was present all Divine.
The more I told her of his presence
The more she seemed perplexed.
I could not make it plain to her,
And quickly she was vexed.
Where is God? my baby asked me,
As she knelt beside my knee,
Asking him to guard and bless her,
Tell me mama! Can I see?
Then I thought of what my grandma
Taught to me when but a child:
Everywhere I kindly answered.
Now there came in accents mild.
God is love I answered softly,
Greater, grander love than mine:
Ever near to guide my darling
To that city all Divine.
But I could not tell my baby
So that she could understand,
And the questions which she asked me,
None could answer in this land,
Then I thought of all the wise men,
In the country far and wide,
And wondered if they could tell her.
Were she standing by their side.
For when I had tried to tell her
All I knew concerning God,
She could never understand it,
Only answer, "Where is God?"