Funeral Service Sheets

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Readings, Psalms and Prayers

What is a Mum?

A mum is one of life's best gifts,
Someone to treasure all life through,
She's caring and loving,
Thoughtful and true,
Someone who is always a special part of your life,
Someone who holds a prime place in your heart,
She's a mentor, a confident and also a friend,
Someone on whose love you can depend.
A mum always has your best interests at heart,
She's someone so dear and so good,
She's a blessing, she's a gift,
She's a treasure like no other,
She's someone that is truly wonderful.
Wherever you go, and whatever you do,
A mum’s love will always see you through,
A mum is truly invaluable,
Indispensable and unforgettable.
I wouldn't want anyone but you,
And that's why I'm so grateful,
that life picked you for me.
As We Look Back.

As we look back over time
We find ourselves wondering .....
Did we remember to thank you enough
For all you have done for us?
For all the times you were by our sides
To help and support us .....
To celebrate our successes
To understand our problems
And accept our defeats?
Or for teaching us by your example,
The value of hard work, good judgement,
Courage and integrity?
We wonder if we ever thanked you
For the sacrifices you made.
To let us have the very best?
And for the simple things
Like laughter, smiles and times we shared?
If we have forgotten to show our
Gratitude enough for all the things you did,
We're thanking you now.
And we are hoping you knew all along,
How much you meant to us.
 

All is Well
by Henry Scott-Holland.

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me and if you want to, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was,
let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.

 

 

Legacy of Love.

A wife, a mother, a grandma too,
This is the legacy we have from you.
You taught us love and how to fight,
You gave us strength, you gave us might.
A stronger person would be hard to find,
And in your heart, you were always kind.
You fought for us all in one way or another,
Not just as a wife not just as a mother.
For all of us you gave your best,
Now the time has come for you to rest.
So go in peace, you've earned your sleep,
Your love in our hearts, we'll eternally keep.
 

Not, How Did He Die, But How Did He Live?

Not how did he die, but how did he live?
Not what did he gain, but what did he give?
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.
Not, what was his church, nor what was his creed?
But had he befriended those really in need?
Was he ever ready, with word of good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say,
But how many were sorry when he passed away.
 
Grandmother.

We had a wonderful grandmother,
One who never really grew old;
Her smile was made of sunshine,
And her heart was solid gold;
Her eyes were as bright as shining stars,
And in her cheeks fair roses you see.
We had a wonderful grandmother,
And that' s the way it will always be.
But take heed, because
She's still keeping an eye on all of us,
So let's make sure
She will like what she sees.
 

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
you tell me of the future that you planned;
Only remember me; you understand
it will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet, if you should forget me for a while
and afterwards, remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
a vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
better by far you should forget and smile
than that you should remember and be sad.

By Christina Rossetti.

 

Because You Have Lived.

To laugh often and much.
To win the respect of intelligent people, and
the affection of children.

To earn the appreciation of honest critics.
To appreciate beauty.
To find the best in others.

To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child,
or a garden patch.

To know even one life has breathed easier because you
have lived.

This is to have succeeded
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die.

Anon

 
 

Sorrow.

If your sorrow can be lessened,
In some warm and special way,
By knowing that so many share,
In your loss with you today.

And if it brings you comfort,
When others show they care,
Please know that thoughts are with you,
And remember they are there.

Written by Bert Page

 

Word.

There is a word, of grief the sounding token.
There is a word bejewelled with bright tears.
The saddest word fond lips have ever spoken,
A little word that breaks the chain of years.
Its utterance must ever bring emotion,
The memories it crystals cannot die.
‘Tis known in every land, on every ocean,
It is
Goodbye.
A Dream.

I dreamed in a dream I saw a city invincible
to the whole of the rest of the earth.
I dreamed that was the new city of friends.
Nothing was greater there than the quality
of robust love.
It led the rest.
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men
of that city and in all their looks and words.
 

An Angel In Disguise

If an angels wings are forever hidden,
beneath two arms that wrap with care;
And a vibrant halo glows within,
a tender spirit shining there.
If the melody of a blessed harp
is found in the warmest voice,
and an unconditional love is sewn,
in to your each and every choice.
If the laughter of a cherub rings,
when you have brightened someone's day
And pure heavens found in every smile,
you felt need to send this way.
If an angels gown of flowing white
is shielding from all eyes.
At once I knew when I saw you,
I spied an angel in disguise.

 

A Message for Mum - from the family.

God looked around his garden
And saw an empty space.
He then looked down upon this earth
And saw your smiling face.

God's garden must be beautiful,
He always takes the best.
For an unknown reason he took you
up to heaven, and shielded you with grace.

It broke our hearts to see you go,
But you did not go alone.
For part of us went with you,
The day God called you home.
Silent Tear.

Each night we shed a silent tear,
As we speak to you in prayer.
To let you know we love you,
And just how much we care.
Take our million teardrops,
Wrap them up in love,
Then ask the wind to carry them,
To you in heaven above.
 

Our Baby

In a baby castle, just beyond our eyes,
Our baby plays with angel toys that money cannot buy.
Who are we, to wish that you had known this world of strife?
Now, play on, our Baby you have eternal life.
At night, when all is silent and sleep forsakes our eyes
We’ll hear your tiny footsteps come running to our side.
Your little hands caress us, so tenderly and sweet
We’ll breathe a prayer and close our eyes
And embrace you in our sleep.
Feelings we will treasure,
Sometimes they’ll make us sad,
Because, our little Baby
We are still your Mum and Dad.

GOODNIGHT AND BLESS YOU

 

You Were So Young.

We’ll never understand it
It was all so brief.
Why someone so little
The pain, the hurt, the grief.
At first we felt so bitter
Why?...we used to say.
God knew how much we loved you,
But still he took you away.
We still miss you as much today,
But now we understand
God makes us - and it’s up to him,
When he takes our hand

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

 

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, 
Inwrought with golden and silver light, 
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths 
Of night and light and the half-light, 
I would spread the cloths under your feet: 
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; 
I have spread my dreams under your feet; 
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

by W. B. Yeats

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow 
Between the crosses, row on row, 
That mark our place; and in the sky 
The larks, still bravely singing, fly 
Scarce heard amid the guns below. 
We are the Dead. Short days ago 
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, 
Loved and were loved, and now we lie 
In Flanders fields. 
Take up our quarrel with the foe: 
To you from failing hands we throw 
The torch; be yours to hold it high. 
If ye break faith with us who die 
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow 
In Flanders fields. 

by Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae

 

Thanks For Your Life

They fight to live
They fight to die
To give us freedom
From land to sky.

They gave us a chance
To rule on our own
Now we live to show them
How strongly we've grown.

Thanks for your fight
Thanks for your life
We now live in Peace
Day and night.

By Jordan Pike

 

I Have A Rendezvous With Death

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade
When Spring comes round with rustling shade
And apple blossoms fill the air.
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath;
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow flowers appear.

God knows 'it were better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear . . .
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Alan Seeger (1888-1916)
Dreams

Be not so desolate, because thy dreams have flown.
And the hall of the heart is empty and silent as stone,
As age left by children, sad and alone.

Those delicate children, thy dreams still endure,
All pure and lovely things wend to the pure.

Sigh not: unto the fold, their way was sure.
Thy gentle dreams, thy frailest,
Even those that were born and lost in a heart beat,
Shall meet thee there.
They are become immortal in shining air.
The unattainable beauty, the thought of which was pain,
That flickered in eyes and on lips, and vanished again;
That fugitive beauty thou shalt attain.

The lights innumerable, that lead thee on and on,
The masque of time ended, shall glow into one.

It shall be with thee forever, thy travel done.

 

 

Because I Could Not Stop For Death

He kindly stopped for me---
The Carriage held but just Ourselves---
And Immortality.

We slowly drove---He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labour and my leisure too,
For His Civility---

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess---in the Ring---
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain---
We passed the Setting Sun---

Or rather---He passed Us---
The Dews drew quivering and chill---
For only Gossamer, my Gown---
My Tippet---Only Tulle---

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground---
The Roof scarcely visible---
The Cornice---in the Ground---

Since then---tis Centuries---and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses Heads
Were toward Eternity--- 

 

God’s Lent Child.

“I’ll lend you for a little while
A child of mine” God said –
For you to love the while he lives
and mourn for when he’s dead.
It may be six or seven years
or forty two or three
but will you, till I call him back,
take care of him for me?

He’ll bring his charms to gladden you
and, should his stay be brief,
you’ll have his nicest memories
as solace for his grief.
I cannot promise he will stay,
since all from earth return
but, there are lessons taught below,
I want this child to learn.

I’ve looked the whole world over,
in my search for teachers true,
and from the things that crowd life’s lane
I have chosen you.
Now will you give him all your love,
nor think the labour vain,
nor hate me when I come to take
this lent child back again?

I fancied that I heard them say,
“Dear Lord Thy Will Be Done”
for all the joys thy child will bring the risk of grief will run.
We’ll shelter him with tenderness,
we’ll love him while we may,
and for the happiness we’ve known
forever grateful stay.
But, should thy Angels call for him
much sooner than we planned,
we’ll brave the grief that comes
and try to understand.

This poem was composed by Harry Webb.

For The Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death August and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe,
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

by Laurence Binyon

 

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

by Rudyard Kipling

 

 

Tears In His Eyes

 I begged my father not to go
He looked at me and
walked to the door so slow.

Tears filled his eyes as 
he bade my mother goodbye
I began to cry.

He opened his arms to me
"I must protect my country you see."

I hugged him once and 
kissed him twice
He wrapped his arms 
around me, it felt so nice.

Rain started to wail, 
she looked so frail
And I knew my 
emotions would fail.

But instead of breaking 
down and making things worse
My words came out 
slow without a curse.

I dried my tears and 
she looked at me
"Father will be back 
some day, you will see."

Then as we all cried, 
my mother took my hand
And she led us to a 
place where we must hide.

It has been six years
That the war has 
hammered in my ears.

But now it is done
And news has come.

Father is dead, but I am free
As free as I want to be.

So let's stand for a minute
with our hearts put in it.

And remember those father, 
mothers and brother
that died so we could be free

By Lisa Krahn

 

The Pride Of Victory

One morning, bright and radiant,
As the sun rose in the sky,
A drumbeat sounded through the hills,
And echoed far and high.
One lone drumbeat o'er the hills,
Sounds like a cannon's roar.
The creatures dive for shelter,
For, the beat precedes a war.
A shout rings from the hillsides,
And the soldiers stampede down.
One young, tiny drummer boy,
Gets trampled to the ground.
As the human waves collide,
And the first shot rings aloud,
A soldier falls in battle;
The flowers form his shroud.
Both sides mix together,
Here their colours blend and clot.
But, the soldiers keep on fighting,
And unity stands for naught.
As the last gunshots fall silent,
All the forms dead on the earth.
Two enemies stand in stillness,
As they turn to face their dearth.

Clouds turn the sky to black,
And rain falls all around.
A light shines through the darkness,
Cleansing bloodstained ground.
They stand there in the silence,
Gaze through the other's heart,
Link hands in grievous quiet,
Piercing hatred, as a dart.
As the smoke fades in the distance,
The hurt souls find release,
The price too high for victory,
They both agree to peace.

by Amber Atkinson

The Healers

In a vision of the night I saw them, 
In the battles of the night. 
’Mid the roar and the reeling 
shadows of blood 
They were moving like light, 

Light of the reason, guarded
Tense within the will, 
As a lantern under a tossing of boughs 
Burns steady and still. 

With scrutiny calm, and with fingers 
Patient as swift 
They bind up the hurts and
the pain-writhen 
Bodies uplift, 

Untired and defenceless; around them 
With shrieks in its breath 
Bursts stark from the terrible horizon
Impersonal death; 

But they take not their courage from anger 
That blinds the hot being; 
They take not their pity from weakness; 
Tender, yet seeing;

Feeling, yet nerved to the uttermost; 
Keen, like steel; 
Yet the wounds of the mind 
they are stricken with, 
Who shall heal? 

They endure to have eyes 
of the watcher
In hell, and not swerve 
For an hour from the faith 
that they follow,
The light that they serve. 

Man true to man, to his kindness 
That overflows all, 
To his spirit erect in the thunder 
When all his forts fall,

This light, in the tiger-mad welter, 
They serve and they save. 
What song shall be worthy 
to sing of them
Braver than the brave? 

By Laurence Binyon

 

In Memory

Serene and beautiful and very wise,
Most erudite in curious Grecian lore,
You lay and read your learned books, and bore
A weight of unshed tears and silent sighs.
The song within your heart could never rise
Until love bade it spread its wings and soar.
Nor could you look on Beauty's face before
A poet's burning mouth had touched your eyes. 

Love is made out of ecstasy and wonder;
Love is a poignant and accustomed pain.
It is a burst of Heaven-shaking thunder;
It is a linnet's fluting after rain.
Love's voice is through your song; 
above and under
And in each note to echo and remain

A red rose is His Sacred Heart, 
a white rose is His face,
And His breath has turned the barren 
world to a rich and flowery place.
He is the Rose of Sharon, 
His gardener am I,
And I shall drink His fragrance 
in Heaven when I die.

by Joyce Kilmer

 

 

If I should die and

 

leave you here a while,

 

be not like others sore,

 

who keep long vigils

 

by the silent dust, and weep.

 

For my sake turn again

 

to life and smile,

 

nerving thy heart

 

and trembling hand to do,

 

something to comfort

 

other hearts than thine.

 

Complete these dear

 

Unfinished tasks of mine,

 

And I, perchance

 

may therein comfort you.

 

Anon

 

 

“Death is nothing at all. I have only

slipped away into the next room. I am I and

you are you. Whatever we were to each other,

that we still care. Call me by old familiar

name, speak to me in the easy way which you

always used. Put no difference in your tone,

wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes

we enjoyed together. Let my name be ever the

household word that it always was, let it be

spoken without effort, without trace of a

shadow on it. Life means all that it ever

meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is

unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of

mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting

for you, for an interval, somewhere very near,

just round the corner.

All is well.”

 

Henry Scott Holland

1847-1918

Canon of St Pauls Cathedral

 
The Secret of Living

The secret of living

Is the learning to pray -

It's asking the father

For strength for the day!

It's trusting completely

That His boundless grace

Will overcome care

And each problem we face!

It's walking by faith

Every mile that we plod,

And knowing our prayers

Bring us closer to God!

"Whosoever ye shall ask

in prayer, believing, ye

shall receive."

Matthew 21:22

 

You Never Will Be Old

 

You never will be old

 

with a twinkle in your eye,

 

with the springtime

 

in your heart

 

as you watch the winter fly.

 

You never will be old

 

While you have

 

a smile to share,

 

while you wonder

 

at mankind

 

and you have

 

the time to care.

 

While there’s magic in your world,

 

While you still can

 

Laugh at life,

 

You will never be old.

 

I thought of you with love today but that was nothing new

 

I thought about you yesterday and days before that too

 

I think of you in silence I often speak your name

 

All I have is memories and picture in a frame

Our memories are our keepsakes to which we'll never part

God has you in his keeping we have you in our hearts