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Belonging. All of the leaves that hang on tree Belong together Indefinitely When the sun shines bright They bask in its glow They hang in together When the cold winds blow. They shelter to together When rains pitter-patter, Bid each other “Goodbye” In autumn and scatter.
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Belonging All of the leaves that hang on tree Belong together Indefinitely When the sun shines bright They bask in its glow They hang in together When the cold winds blow. They shelter to together When rains pitter-patter, Bid each other “Goodbye” In autumn and scatter.
Out-time, In-time Out-time, out-time, Run around and shout time, shake it all about time, out-time, out-time. In-time, in-time, it’s time to begin time, stop the noisy din time, in-time, in-time.
Off to Africa On the wire they gather In a nearly-ready row, They won’t shiver in the winter when the cold winds blow. I wonder: which wee swallow has the job of shouting GO!
It takes time I can grow hair, grow nails, grow teeth. I can grow bigger grow older grow tall. I can grow better, grow wiser, grow stronger. But there’s one grow I cannot at all. From all the grows that I can do, If I could take my pick I wouldn’t choose any of these at all. I’d simply choose to grow quick!
Cos after all the time I’ve spent Growing in body and mind I’ve learned one thing about growing, I’ve learned that –growing TAKES TIME!
Where I belong No, No, I didn’t want to go, My heart was beating very fast, My feet were very slow. Why should I leave my comfy bed? There’s something very wrong. Why should I leave to go to school? I simply won’t belong.
Yes, Yes, I simply must confess, I love to meet my friends each day, I love the games we always play. I’m glad I came to school to learn to read or sing a song. Why do I leave to go to school? Cos that’s where I belong!
All Saints, All Souls Remember those who kept the faith Who always turned to pray. Who showed the love of Jesus in their lives from day to day. Remember those This special time Who live with God above, All Saints, All souls, And all our own who live with God in love.
Jesus Growing Up Mary loved her little boy. Joseph’s heart was full of joy. Rocked him in a cradle strong. Rocked him to a desert song.
Rabbi taught the growing lad Stories joyful, stories sad, Rabbi loved him as a son, God’s anointed, chosen one.
Helping Mary make a meal, Helping Joseph men a wheel, Growing strong and growing tall, Waiting for the Father’s call.
Many ways to Travel There are many ways to travel And one that I like is to zoom down a hill on a mountain bike. There are many ways to travel and another that’s nice is to slide on a sledge on the snow and ice. There are many ways to travel and isn’t it fun to sail on the sea in the wind and the sun?
There are many ways to travel but the best by far is to ride on a rocket to a distant star.
Jesus is lost “Where is that boy?” said Mary I thought he was with you, “Well I don’t know,” said Joseph “I thought you had him too. I was chatting for a minute with old Matthew in the square. When I looked around for Jesus, He was gone he wasn’t there.”
“He’s very bold,” said Mary, He knows he’s not allowed To run off playing on his own in such a busy crowd.” “Well never mind,” said Joseph, “it’s no use giving out. Let’s go and try to find him, He’s somewhere hereabouts.”
They found him in the Temple and Joseph said “Come quick! You’re really very naughty, Your mother’s worried sick.” But Mary simply hugged him We’ll go home now said she It’s good to have you back, you know, Home’s where we’d like to be!”
Farmer “Farmer, is the harvest ready For we must have bread?” “Go and look in all my fields,” Is what the farmer said.
So we ran and saw the wheat Standing straight and tall. “There’s your bread,” the farmer said “Have no fear at all.”
“Miller, is the flour ready For me must have bread?” “Go and look in all my sacks,” Is what the miller said.
So we ran and saw the flour Soft and white as snow. There’s your flour, the miller said As he turned to go.
“Baker, is the oven ready For we must have bread?” “Go and open wide the door, Is what the baker said.
So we ran and saw the loaves Crisp and brown to see. “There’s your bread,” the baker said “Ready for your tea.”