Her son a thousand miles away
She journeyed 'cross the open plains,
Moving ever towards
Seventy-four years old was she,
Small and frail, and so, so weak,
But with a spirit so strong that she
Wouldn't give up 'til she reached
When one more step she could not take
To the dirty ground she sank.
From this sleep she would not wake.
Would she not reach
With her last words she did implore
The ones who'd brought her from the Scottish shore
To give her son a message from his mother:
“Tell John I died with my face towards
A hundred and fifty years later I read
The story of her journey 'cross plains and seas,
How at Chimney Rock she rests in peace,
How ever she strove to reach
Her life and faith inspire me
To be the best that I can be.
And through my life this promise I’ll keep:
I’ll strive to live and die facing