This is Laura Ann's, my grandmother and dad's mother's, hymn book. She sung him songs on those cold, winter nights in Tennessee out of this book. She reinforced his faith out of this book. Her voice singing calmed him when he was upset with words from this book. She died singing words from My Times Are In Thy Hands out of this book. I sung my father that song before his death cause she was waiting on her boy to come home. This book was found among my dad's meager possesions. It is worth more than anything to me. For it is some small part of my heart not calloused by a cruel, unforgiving world. by Lance Gargus
Cleave unto the LORD your God,
as ye have done unto this day.
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