Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Remembrances ...

As I was walking by my pond today I began to hum a tune I haven't heard for a few years. It brought back a flood of memories and some tears. Here in PA the weather has been goofy. One day it is warm and you don't even need a jacket. The next day you are all bundled up. I noticed that my goldfish in the pond were getting a little frisky with the warming up of their water in the pond. I have a small pond and it warms faster than the big ones. The fish were swimming around as opposed to their floating in the same spot for days. I asked my friend if I should feed them but she said not to, they would be fine. As I gazed down into the water it turned my thoughts to how my two frogs are passing thru this winter. I have not seen them, they are down under leaves on the bottom. The little child in me wanted to poke around and stir them up but the adult in me said to just leave them alone. Then this tune popped in my head, one my Grandma Anna used to sing and teach us. She went to school in a one room schoolhouse with 8 grades of children being taught all at once. She learned alot of poems sung to tunes. I believe they called it 'rote'?

Twenty Froggies she called it.
I have it written down in her handwriting, it goes like this --

Twenty Froggies went to school,
down beside a rushy pool;
Twenty little coats of green,
twenty vests all white and clean.
"We must be in time," said they,
"First we study, then we play;
that is how we keep the rule,
when we froggies go to school."
Master Bullfrog, grave and stern,
called the classes in their turn;
Taught them how to nobly strive,
likewise how to leap and dive.
From his seat upon a log,
showed them how to say, "Ker-chog!"
Also how to dodge a blow
from the sticks which bad boys throw.
Twenty froggies grew up fast;
Bullfrogs they became at last.
Not one dunce was in the lot,
not one lesson they forgot.
Polished in a high degree,
as each froggie ought to be.
Now they sit on other logs,
teaching other little frogs.

Oh Grandma I love you so and miss you dearly!
As she taught me, so I look forward to the day when
I can teach this to my grandkids.

Thank you Lord for life's little blessings.
Though tears may fall my heart is blessed beyond
measure. I have felt the touch of The Master's Hand.
All this while gazing into a small pond wondering at His creation
and thanking Him for these remembrances on a cold gray day in PA.


  1. That's a great poem.

    Thanks for the link, also.
    By the way it's spelled Thirsty.

  2. Sorry about that David! My arthritis is acting up and my finger must have stuck! ;-) It has been fixed Thirsty Theologian.

  3. Oh, a very special poem made priceless by having it in your grandma's handwriting.

    Thanks for sharing this. I like this poem.

  4. My grandfather used to sing this song to me when I was young. He passed when I was eleven and now I sing it to my three year old. Our version was shorter, but I am glad that it is a known rhyme.


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