The Lessons of Bryce’s Life

The Lessons of Bryce’s Life – by Rodger Mangold II

NOTE: 3 years ago today Bryce’s family experienced perhaps the saddest day they will ever experience – Bryce passed away suddenly and far too early for us all. Our hearts still are holding up the family in prayer and love. May we never forget this young man and the lessons his brief life taught us all.

Full of promise, eyes that glistened, a boy that was “all-boy” to the end,
Little Bryce Pierson’s life is gone, a shock to his family and friends.

A 7-year-old, that lived life to the fullest, brought joy to his mom and his dad,
A smile that was sure to melt your heart, now the family is broken and sad.

You’ll hear words like, “Bryce is in a better place, he’s certainly now with the Lord,”
Words meant to bring you great comfort, but your heart isn’t any less sore.

Uncontrollable tears will fall from your eyes; your heart will pound out of your chest,
Don’t you dare look back with an ounce of regret, Jeff and Sheri you both did your best.

To dwell on the loss of this precious boy could rob you of the joy that he brought us,
Look back if you can on the happy times, and the lessons his short life has taught us.

Grass stains, ripped blue jeans, untied shoes; all just par for the course,
Run, romp, play, enjoy life, live each moment without chance of remorse.

Oh, to be 7 years old again, we live vicariously through the next generation,
To live care-free, from one adventure to the next, no regrets worthy of mention.

Why not take each day as Bryce did, looking forward to the promise within,
Take time to enjoy life’s pleasures, like the sunrise, the sunset, and the wind.

Simple things we’ve taken for granted, working hard to pay off all our debt,
Our children really need more time with us, another chance we may never get.

Hug your children tighter, longer, and more often, kissing them from head to toe,
Tickle them till they laugh, rock them when they cry, reach for their hand to hold.

We know that children are a gift from God, sometimes that seems like a chore,
As small as they are, they won’t be forever, so cherish them all the more.

There’s no doubt in our mind, you’ll miss dear Bryce, an untimely end to be sure,
May God grant you comfort and peace in your hearts, only He truly holds the cure.

The Lord knew Heaven was incomplete without Bryce, but for us it’s all just too abrupt,
He’s up there with Jesus, his mansion complete, where no moth, or rust can corrupt.

Let’s not forget, Jesus loves the little children, red and yellow, black and white,
We see the death of Bryce as a loss, but to the Lord, it’s precious in His sight.

Let the fondness of Bryce’s memory and the reflection of his smile, give warmth to your sorrowful soul,
Let the promise of seeing him again bring you peace; when reunited his sweet hand you’ll hold.

Dedicated to the family, written by Rodger D. Mangold II

A Cowboy Called Home – by Rodger Dale Mangold II

February 10th 1949 brought the birth of a new baby boy,
Bud and Dovie called him Rodger Dale, inspired by a cowboy named Roy.

Just six years old when Gunsmoke aired, little Rodger Dale at once was smitten,
He wanted to be like Marshall Dillon, then again, what little boy his age didn’t?

The likes of Paladin and James T. West, blazed the trail for this young buckaroo,
As Roy Rogers and Dale Evans strummed guitar and crooned, “Happy trails to you.”

“Hi-yo Silver away,” atop his fiery horse, the masked Lone Ranger shouts,
His trusty side-kick Tonto just ahead, as each trail for danger he scouts.

Rodger’s boyhood was filled with cowboys and Indians, ranchers, rustlers, and wranglers,
But a good cowboy welcomes anyone to the campfire; partners, drifters, even strangers.

The years were kind to Cowboy Rodger, as he traveled the trails of life,
God blessed him with 3 buckaroos of his own, when sweet Deanna became his wife.

He worked hard each day to earn a living; that was the “Cowboy Way.”
As hard as he worked, sunup to sundown, he always took time to pray.

Everyday would find him singing or whistling; he was sure to make you smile,
He had a great big heart, and list of fine qualities, that went on for country mile.

At times Life would try to get the drop on Rodger, but his draw was fast as lightening,
With a wink and smile, that’s all it would take and your day was sure to brighten.

He lovingly showed us the “ropes,” always “steering” us in the right direction,
At times he’d have to “corral” us, but we knew he had the best of intentions.

He had some rough rides and saddle sores, but loved the Lord first and foremost,
Jesus deputized Rodger one New Year’s Eve night, filling him with the Holy Ghost!

Liberty Vance, Hopalong Cassidy, the “Duke” – John Wayne himself,
The “Singing Cowboy” Gene Autry, now fond memories upon Life’s shelf.

In the distance I hear “Load ’em up, move ’em out, Rawhide!” and “Yippee-ki-yay!”
Just slogans of yesteryear’s cowboys that have all but faded away.

“Give me land, lots of land, under starry skies above…Don’t fence me in.”
God’s prepared a ranch the size of Texas, for our faithful father and friend.

With cowboy boots and Stetson hat, a six-gun strapped to his side,
The cowboy I called “Daddy” has taken his heavenly ride.

Cowboy Rodger has gone to his heavenly home, where the deer and the antelope play,
He’s up there with Papaw, ridin’ the range, where the skies are not cloudy all day.

“Some trails are happy trails and some trails are blue,”
It’s the way you ride the trail that counts,
There’s a happy one for you.

Happy trails to you…until we meet again. We love you Dad!

February 10, 1949 – August 7, 2008

(Written August 28, 2008)

He’s Not in the Manger Anymore


He’s Not In the Manger Anymore

By: Rodger D. Mangold

In the hustle and bustle, we should pause to remember,

It’s Christ Jesus’ birth we’re celebrating in December.


Fancy bows and decorative ribbon adorn each gift and yet,

Christ gave the best gift of all; He died for our sins, don’t forget.


Remember the humble manger and the virgin-birth indeed,

He’s also Jehovah robed in flesh, who died to make men free.


Don’t idly stand at the manger scene just warming to his cuddle and coo;

For that innocent baby will lay down his life and give it in ransom for you.


As you trim your tree with garland, with tinsel and twinkling lights,

Don’t forget the rugged tree at Calvary; the cross where Jesus died.


Rusty nails would pierce the sinless hands of our precious dying Savior,

Could this display of His unfeigned love for the world be any greater?


Won’t you make His birth worth it? And greater still His death?

As Christ said the words, “It is finished” and drew His final breath.


No longer the babe, asleep in the manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes,

He’s the Holy Lamb and victorious Savior, triumphant over death He arose.


The angels declared, “Peace on earth, and good will toward men!”

Aren’t you thankful that Jesus promised to one day come again?


He’ll descend from Heaven with a shout and split the eastern sky,

To take us to a place He’s prepared, where no tears shall dim the eye.


Christ invites you today, put an end to your sin that has you so tightly bound.

Wash clean your heart in Jesus Name, and be ready for that last trumpet sound.


Is your conscience clean and your heart ready, free from the burden of sin?

Or are you still standing at the humble manger, just admiring the wee baby’s grin?