Preacher's Wife

A poem.

Author unknown. 

You may think it quite an easy task

And just a pleasant life;

But really it takes a lot of grace

To be a preacher's wife.

She's supposed to be a paragon

Without a fault in view,

A saint when in the parsonage

As well as in the pew.

 

Her home must be a small hotel

For folks that chance to roam, And yet have peace and harmony,

A pleasant home sweet home.

Whenever groups are called to meet,

Her presence must be there; And yet the members all agree

She should live a life of prayer.

 

Though hearing people's troubles and trials,

Their grief both night and day,

She's supposed to spread but sunshine bright

To those along the way.

She must lend a sympathetic ear

To every tale of woe,

And then forget about it all,

Lest it to others go.

 

Her children must be models rare

Of quietness and poise,

But still stay on the same level

With other girls and boys.

You may think it quite an easy task

And just a pleasant life,

But really it takes a lot of grace

To be a preacher's wife.

—Author Unknown