Grandpa Thompson

Carl Thompson was born March 8, 1893.  His daughter, Phyllis, was my mother-in-law.  Here is a poem she wrote for him many years ago when he was 47 years of age.  Phyllis would have been 22, and Nat would have been almost 4 months of age.

               My Dad

He wouldn't lead the style parade.
But he's a man that's self made.
You might think him an ordinary guy
And probably just pass him by.

But, listen, you better stop and look.
You'll learn far more than from a book.
See those deep lines in his face.
Could you carry them with that grace?

See the kindness in his eyes.
And yet they're so very wise.
It's true there's silver in his hair.
And a spot on top that's quite bare.

But if you could see into his heart,
You'd find love in every part.
No fear, hate, envy or greed,
But just the spirit the world needs.

He's a gentleman to the letter.
You will never find one better.
He's the best friend anyone ever had.
This swell fellow is --My Dad.

               Phyllis Thompson Shaw
               June 21, 1942

To Daddy from all the kids.