One bright and sunny Sabbath day, as each we bowed our heads,
My little daughter took his hand and to her brother said,
“Eat this to show you’ll follow Him and never go astray.
The bread is like His body. His life he freely gave.”
“And this,” she said, as she raised her cup, “is for the blood He spilt
To wash away our sins for us, Our sorrow and our guilt.”
She gently held his tiny hand and helped him with the cup.
“And remember, always, Brother dear, that He has risen up,
And someday he’ll return for us and take us home with him
And we will never feel the pain or have to cry again.”
I could not stay my tears that day. Her words had warmed my heart.
I prayed the Lord would bless her life and that she’d never part
From her faith and innocence and the truth she knew so well.
But life has not always been good, and doubt within her dwells.
Although the years have dulled the truth through youthful eyes she saw,
I know in time she’ll see again, and her frozen heart will thaw.
The Lord will bring about a change, and she’ll once more remember
The words she spoke on that Sabbath morn to her precious little brother.
By Cheryl E. Blackburn
© 2010
