Grave side services were over now.
Everyone had left and I was alone.
I began to read the names and dates
Chiseled here and there on every stone.

The name showed whether it was Mom or Dad,
Or daughter or baby son.

The dates were different, the amount the same,
There were two dates on every one.

It was then that I noticed something
Just a simple line.
It was the dash between the dates,
And placed there, it stood for time.

All at once it dawned on me,
How important that little line!
The dates placed there belong to God,
But the line in yours and mine.

It's God who gives this precious life,
And it's He who takes away;
But the line between He gives to us
To do with what we may.

We know He's written the first date down
Of each and every one;
And we're sure the hands will write again,
For the last date has to come.

The hands will write the last date down
Quite soon, perhaps, for some;
But upon the line between my dates and yours,
I trust He'd write, "Well done, well done!"

–Anonymous
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