Home to the table, home to the feast
Where the last are the first and the greatest are the least
Where the rich will envy what the poor have got
Everybody's got enough, 'though we ain't got a lot
No one is forgotten, no one is alone
When we're calling all the children home
Today I walk around humming All Saints music. I have acquired quite a repertoire over 58 years in the church and beyond. Because I am preaching All Saints Sunday, I am already in Saturday sermon mode, even though the sermon will most probably gel by the Friday before, so I can get the text to the person who will be translating it into Spanish as I preach for the 1:00 PM service. I wonder how critters translates into Spanish. Right now I have no certain idea what will end up on the page, or, for that matter, what will emerge from my mouth.
All Saints music
Accompanies the Saturday chores,
Even though All Saints Day
Has yet to come.
I Sing a Song of the Saints of God
For all the saints,
Who from their labors rest.
More faintly I hear
All God’s critters got a place in the choir
Some sing low
Some sing higher
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
Some just clap their hands
Or anything they got now.
Underneath it all
John McCutcheon sing
Calling all the children home
Supper’s on the table,
Everybody come in.
I know there will be
There is alwaysMore music.