He used to snap his fingers for
The kids with joyful glee.
They whistled happy tunes and he
Would join in harmony.
He taught them how to laugh and sing,
To whistle and to clap.
The grown-ups loved this gray old man.
They called him Uncle Snaps.
His fingers had a rhythm that
Would keep the kids entranced,
And when he played his happy tunes,
They all got up and danced.
His youngest friend was sweet Marie,
Who could not understand
Why just no matter how she tried,
No sound came from her hands.
With patience Uncle Snaps had tried
To teach Marie to snap,
But she could never quite catch on,
So she’d just sit and clap.
Each afternoon he sat alone
Until the children came.
One day he saw Marie not there,
And asked for her by name.
“Marie is ill,” a young boy said.
“They say that she might die.”
The other children looked at him,
And then began to cry.
Then Uncle Snaps began to sing
And lifted spirits high.
Then after each young child had gone,
He sat alone and cried.
Then late that night he heard the sound
Of knocking on his door.
He saw the father of Marie
And asked what he’d come for.
“Please, Uncle Snaps, she’s calling for you,”
He heard her father say.
Then he put on his overcoat
And both left right away.
He walked into Marie’s bedroom
And got down on his knees.
She saw him and he heard her say,
“Uncle Snaps, please sing for me.”
He said, “I love you, sweet Marie,
And I’d be happy to.
So rest your head, and listen close.
Uncle Snaps will sing for you.”
He sang a song of lasting love
And happy memories,
And even with a lumpy throat,
He sang in harmony.
When he had sung his final note,
He looked upon the child.
He saw a smile upon her face,
So lovely and so mild,
And then she lifted up her hand.
Her thumb and finger met.
She tried to snap her fingers, this
Was the last chance she’d get.
Then Uncle Snaps snapped his fingers
As lightly as he could,
Saying, “Sweet Marie, I heard you snap!
I always knew you would!”
She dropped her hand and smiled at him,
Then drifted off to sleep.
He said, “Dear Lord, this child’s now yours,”
And he began to weep.
The next day when he told the kids
About their friend Marie,
He told them not to cry for her,
For now her soul was free.
The grown-ups said he took it well,
But they could never see
That every night he cried alone
For precious, sweet Marie.
March 4, 1981
Original song created using SunoAI
© 2010 – 2025, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.