The Greatest of All

~Vanilla~

I am the Greatest
Lyrics by Don Schlitz

Little boy, in a baseball hat,
stands in the field with his ball and bat.
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all."
puts his bat on his shoulder and tosses up his ball.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down
and he swings his bat all the way around.
The world's so still you can hear the sound
as the baseball falls to the ground.

Now the little boy doesn't say a word,
picks up his ball, he is undeterred.
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been."
he grits his teeth and he tries it again.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down
and he swings his bat all the way around.
The world's so still you can hear the sound
as the baseball falls to the ground.

He makes no excuses, he shows no fear,
he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy, he adjusts his hat,
picks up his ball, stares at his bat.
Says, "I am the greatest, the game is on the line,"
and he gives his all, one last time.
and the ball goes up and the moon's so bright,
swings his bat with all his might.
The world's as still as still can be,
and the baseball falls,
and that's strike three.

Now it's suppertime and his momma calls,
little boy starts home with his bat and ball.
Says, "I am the greatest and that is a fact,
but even I didn't know I could pitch like that."

Says, "I am the greatest, that is understood,
but even I didn't know I could pitch that good."

You Don't have to Tell

~Vanilla~

You don't have to tell how you live each day;
You don't have to tell if you work or play;
A tried and true barometer stands in its place
You don't have to tell, it will show in your face.
If you live close to God and His infinite grace
You won't have to tell, it will show in your face.

A Life ~Worth Living

From Aunt Walene

~Vanilla~

A young lady and an old one chanced to meet one day.
The young one said to the elder
in her usual braggart way:
Why don't you stand up straight like me?
That's no way to grow old.
It's just a form of a habit
~at least that's what I'm told.

The old woman replied:
Have you noticed the wheat fields
when the harvest time draws nigh?
The heads that are empty
are the ones that are tall and standing high.
But those that count in the harvest
are stooped and bending low,
Awaiting the reapers sickle,
their time is short they know.

The young lady passed on by
and slowly bowed her head.
No doubt she pondered many a day,
on the things the old lady said.

The Real Hero

From Great Grandma Naomi Adelaide Heninger

 ~Vanilla~

The Real Hero

Let others write of battles fought

Of bloody, ghastly fields...

Where honor greets the man who wins

And death the man who yields;

But I write of him who fights and vanquishes his sins

Who struggles on through weary years

Against himself and wins.