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Poem

Now gather ‘round and hear this tale,
Of a brother cool, calm, and never stale.
It started on a peaceful morn,
When Idan himself was quietly born.

Jehovah smiled and said, “I will
Give kindness form— son of Bill.
He won’t be loud, he won’t wear gold,
But trust me, watch this man unfold.”

He gave him peace, a decent brain,
A knack for calm in worldly strain.
And then, of course, He added flair—
A subtle humor, light as air.

Now years have passed, and here we are,
Still watching him raise the bar.
He’s not on stage, no spotlight glare,
But when he’s near, you know he’s there.

A friend like few, a brother true,
With steady hands and honest view.
He’s not the loudest in the crowd,
But trust me, when he speaks—wow, loud!

You’ll hear no fuss, you’ll see no flair,
But Afam’s presence fills the air.
With joyful calm, with steady tone,
He makes Jehovah’s goodness known.

He shows up sharp (well... most the time),
With Scriptures ready and thoughts that rhyme.
He’ll say, “Let’s read,” then make a pun,
And boom! The scene twice as fun.

He loves when folks start growing strong,
He cheers them on, he tags along.
No jealousy, no heavy boast,
Just quiet joy—that’s the most.

But lest we drift and miss the key:
He walks in faith, obediently.
He doesn’t claim the praise or shine—
He knows all glory is divine.

Yet still we pause, with grins so wide,
To thank Jehovah for what's inside—
This brother, friend, this man we know,
Who walks the path where blessings grow.

So here’s to Afam—faithful and bold,
A heart that shines, more pure than gold.
Keep walking strong, keep being you,
Because the world feels better with Idan in view.

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