Wide Place in the Road

It's just a wide place in the road,

This little town where I have come to live;

But, sir I wouldn't trade this sweet abode

For all the treasure anyone could give.

I wouldn't trade it, and I'll tell you why;

Good friends live here, for one great, blessed thing

They're neighbors, too-and as the days go by

Each one and all of them some gift doth bring.

One says Good Morning at my little gate

And pauses for a time to wish me well.

There's work to do--ah yes, but that can wait

Till he has spoken what he has to tell.

Another calls at noontime just to bring

The trifling thing he borrowed days ago;

And in his laughter is a pleasant ring

At quips he makes when has turned to go.

If there is trouble in my little home,

Kind, helpful hands reach out from everywhere;

I never know the pain of him who must alone

Life's endless burdens bear.

Our fare is coarse, as you can well surmise;

Our manners aren't what you'd call refined.

But we're content to eat and sleep and then arise

To all the simple joys of humankind.

We never move in frantic, feverish haste

To pile up gilded treasure in a bank;

If we can live from day to day and never waste

The treasure of the heart--our God we thank.

You migh not like the kind of life we live;

But this is all the kind of life we know;

So we're content to strive and get and give,

And grateful that our fate hath made it so.

Ah, yes, it's just a wide place in the road

This straggling village where I've come to dwell.

But I'll take this and you take your abode

And each of us will wish the other well.