Each Christmas she glances in her memory bank
At photos of family, the ones that she took
There's always one face that's been there all the time
The face of her mother, she's so happy she's hers

She worked awful hard all those years so she'd have
All the things that she thought she needed so bad.
Now she looks at the past of her Christmas at home
And she cannot remember one present she owned

All the memories of Mom that she holds in her heart
Are of holidays past, they were never apart
She knows she'll be happy, for she's learned what she needs
The sweetness of families, more important than greed

It's the Love, and the Faith, not the gifts, nor the tree
That will stay in her heart, and her past memory
So this Christmas the face that she holds oh so dear
Is the sweet face of Mother, more lovely each year