From the Streets of Stockton

From the streets of Stockton, I learned to love her so
for out of the dirty streets did a thankful spirit grow.
She walked with the masses as just one of a crowd
though back in sixty-eight, her voice still echoes loud.

Not with words spoken but in actions that she did,
I can recall the soup lines even though I was a kid.
She had no automobile but Grandma got around
for none were boundaries to keep her spirit bound.

From arrival at bus stop, we would walk hand in hand
to a homeless shelter to hear Salvation Army's band.
The Captain spoke salvation wherever needy stood
as I watched Grandma live as Christ in doing good.

The ladies all gathered 'round with needles and thread
to make a comfy quilt for a soldier to lie his head.
And the last part of course was my favorite of the day
as the Elders and Grandma took us to a park to play.

As I played with the other kids in this world we knew
From the streets of Stockton, a thankful spirit grew.