The little mountain church, though simple and plain, Was so precious to me I want to go again And worship as in days of yore When wide open was the door. Strains of the old time hymns Lifted the rafters of the mountain church When family and friends sang praises to God And worshiped Him. Simple folk gathered each Sunday morn To worship the Savior Giving everlasting life to each child, reborn Who accepted the free gift Of eternal life and songs of praise did lift. There is no more precious place Than the little mountain church to me For the love of God Emanated from the radiant saints' face As they gathered to testify of their hope for eternity. ©Jane Ward Smith April 3, 2005 Used With Permission All Rights Reserved By Author Mail


For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.

Matthew 18:20 - (KJV)

I'll Fly Away
Smick & Smodoo's World