When I go to Heaven

A friend and colleague at work, who recently lost her dear Mother, gave the following poem to me.   This poem was a favourite of her Mum’s, as in her spare time she helped clean her local church, so in memory of Winifred Mary Trickett, here is the poem:

My job on earth is humble,

I’m just a cleaner see

And those who know no better

Well, they look down on me,

But what they just don’t realise

Is whilst they’re having fun,

I’m serving my apprenticeship

For better things to come,

Cos when our life is ended

And we go to meet Our Lord

They won’t know how to please him,

With either act or word,

But I will say dear Jesus

I know what I will do,

I’ll clean and polish Heaven

I’ll make it shine for you,

I’ll make the stars all sparkle

And dust those Pearly Gates

I’ll scrub the steps to Heaven Lord

Where angels stand and wait,

And so to people here on earth,

I have these words to say,

Don’t treat a cleaner with contempt

We’ll meet again one day,

When God will take us by the hand

And when he gets to me

He’ll introduce me as his Friend,

A Cleaner, V.I.P.