I don't know how to say it
But somehow it seems to me
That maybe we are stationed,
Where God wants us to be.

That little place we're filling
Is the reason for our birth
And just to do the work we do
He sent us down to earth.

If God had wanted otherwise
I'd reckon He'd have made
Each one of us a little different
Of a worse or better grade.

And since God knows and understand
All things of land and sea
I fancy that He placed us here
Just where He wanted us to be.

Sometimes we get to thinking
As our labors we review
That we should like a higher place
With greater things to do.

But we come to the conclusion
When the envying is stilled~
That the post to which God has sent us
Is the post He wanted filled.

And there isn't any service
That we honestly can scorn~
For it may just be the reason
God allowed us to be born.

Please Pass it On to the People Close to You