There’s a store by the road in the country Among the hills where the evergreens grow In that store by the road there’s a woman Who is different from others I know 
Now her irony-gray hair’s turned to silver And her kind eyes are ever soft and blue Always she has a kind word for others And a smile ever waiting for you 
She’s adored for her sunny disposition By the women, the children and men In all the neighboring hills they call her Mother For she’s really a mother dear to them 
She is cheerful like the birds in the cedars She is modest like the songs that they sing In the hills nearby they call her Mother For she’s really a mother true to them 
When the clouds hang low on the mountain And the pines are bent low by the snow Neighbors go to that store by the roadside It’s a place that they all love to go 
Some go there to play cards at the table Some just sit by the warm, cheering fire And dear Mother with kind disposition Finds a way to make all happy there 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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