Let The Children Pick The Flowers

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I recall one Sunday morning, on 
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the way to Sunday school
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The sun was brightly shining down 
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and the ([A]) morning air was cool
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Me and brother saw some flowers, 
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growing by the parson?s gate
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Mama said don?t pick the flowers 
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boys, they?re not for us to take

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Then a voice from in the garden, 
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made us turn around and stare
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We saw an old, old lady, ([A]) 
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sittin? in a rocking chair
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And when she got up to come our 
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way, we knew she couldn?t see
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She said let them pick the flowers,
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 that?s their way of lovin? me

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Let the children pick the flowers, 
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let them see the beauty there
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Let them study God?s cre- -ations, 
that were ([A]) grown with love and 
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care
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Let the children pick the flowers,
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 that?s what God?s own words would 
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be
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* Let the little one?s pick the 
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flowers, that?s their way of 
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lovin? me

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Have you ever really wondered, what
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 are flowers growing for
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Maybe God made them for children, 
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just to ([A]) pick forever more
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For as long as Roses bramble, and 
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they need the morning dew
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Let the children pick the flowers, 
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that?s their way of lovin? you

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Let the children pick the flowers, 
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that?s what God?s own words would be
Let the little one?s pick the 
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flowers, that?s their way of 
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lovin? me