Lyrics
Mama's in the garden with her sleeves rolled high
Morning sun dancing in her eyes
A little girl beside her with dirt on her shoes
Learning life from the things that grew
Shelling peas from a wicker bowl
Listening to stories softly told
Summer wind through the apple trees
Honeybees drifting where they please
I see your hand in every row
In every little thing that grows
In my mother's smile, my daughter's laugh
In the garden paths we walk
Though the seasons come and go
Your gentle touch still seems to show
In every seed and every flower that stands
I see your hand
Fresh strawberries and a little cream
Simple things became a dream
Mama laughed and Gramma knew
Love grows best in the things we do
No grand speeches, no fancy plans
Just patient hearts and weathered hands
Teaching us without a word
Lessons deeper than we heard
I see your hand in every row
In every little thing that grows
In my mother's smile, my daughter's laugh
In the garden paths we walk
Though the seasons come and go
Your gentle touch still seems to show
In every seed and every flower that stands
I see your hand
Now the little girl is grown today
Showing her child the very same way
Kneeling down where the roses climb
Passing along a thread through time
Mama smiles as she watches on
Seeing how the years have gone
Three generations in the sun
Still tending what you've begun
That old chair by the garden gate
Has sat there empty now for years
But every spring when the first buds bloom
It feels like you're still here
The peas still ripen on the vine
The strawberries come right on time
And every season brings again
The traces of your hands
I see your hand in every row
In every little thing that grows
In my mother's smile, my daughter's laugh
In the garden paths we walk
Though the seasons come and go
Your gentle touch still seems to show
In every seed and every flower that stands
I see your hand
In every seed and every flower that stands
I see your hand
I see your hand...
I see your hand...