Marie Frechette

God saw she was getting tired
And a cure was not to be.
So He put His arms around her
And whispered, “come with me.”

With tearful eyes we watched her
And saw her fade away.
Although we loved her dearly,
We could not make her stay.

A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.