Because there’s nothing more beautiful than watching an old person sing praise.

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I sit with them sometimes, on elder row, so I can hear them. Old, cracked voices singing familiar words. He might nod off during the sermon, but during The Old Rugged Cross or Trust and Obey or Sweet Hour of Prayer? Never.

The music of their walks, and of my childhood. It’s a precious thing to share.

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Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,

Calling for you and for me.

See, on the portals He’s waiting and watching,

Watching for you and for me.

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