Family

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When I was 13 my father gave to me
An old beat up rifle passed down the family tree
That gun was worn out, tired and tattered
As if it had seen many a battle
It didn't mean much to anyone else
But the world to me, I was up to the task

Things changed that day, we both felt a difference
Growing up fast, gaining independence
That old beat up rifle held an unspoken word
And many years past before I heard
The message he always struggled to say
"I'm proud of you son in so many ways"

Twenty years flew by, I took it down from the closet
Dusted it off and got ready to box it
Took dad's picture and held it in my hands
Offered up a prayer that my son would withstand
All of the challenges that he will face in his life
By the grace of the good Lord by his side

Happy birthday my son it's a big day indeed
For you are finally turning 13
I pass this old rifle into your hands
A symbol of growing into a man
One day you'll realize, when you have your own son
That this was so much more than just an old gun.

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