I own a small piece of land in the town of Ellerslie, Georgia. On it is a pasture. In the middle of the pasture is an old, dilapidated shack, formerly a homeplace. Each spring, hundreds of daffodils bloom in the thick pasture grass surrounding the house. There are indications that, at one point in time, the flowers might have been planted in some orderly fashion. Now, though, having multiplied over the years, they grow randomly, beautifully. (Daffodils, as you probably know, are planted in the wintertime, when the ground is cold and hard.) I have wondered on occasion who might have planted the first daffodils there, and whether it ever crossed their mind that, years after they were gone from this world, someone like myself might still enjoy the beauty which they began. This is a song about kindness, a reminder that we would be wise if, as Jesus did, we "went around doing good." Who knows how or when or with whom our deeds might give joy. This song was recorded on "Learning How to See."

"Someone's Been Here"

Soft golden smiles, these daffodils,
were planted once in perfect rows,
but now they scatter 'cross the field,
the way the years have let them grow,
these fingerprints of someone gone,
these dancers born in distant years,
tell us with their silent song,
someone's been here.

Someone who loved the quiet joys,
of life and color, simple things,
someone who knelt on winter day,
certain there would be a spring.

Perhaps it was an aged man,
perhaps it was a little girl,
God bless the soul that moved the hand,
to bring this share beauty with the world.
We'll never know that giver's name,
but let us learn the giver's way,
kneeling down with servant's heart,
planting seeds of love each day.

The ones who love the quiet joys,
of life and color, simple things,
the ones who kneel in this cold, dark world,
certain there will be a spring,

Someone's been here, someone's been here,
let them say someday, someone's been here.

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