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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The traveling preacher would visit us on a monthly bases, Unless an urgent need like a wedding, burial, or a birth to welcome new faces. Most folks in these parts paid with what they raised on their old dirt farms, He’d preach hellfire and brimstone then we’d all pray with outreaching arms. We hardly ever had services at the same spot twice, Wherever he camped the night before he reckoned that place would be nice. His poor old mule so swaybacked and lean, Had carried his old carcass betwixt and between. They’d been partners for more than twenty two years, She’d seen him shout to the Lord and watched him when he’d fall to his knees and shed bitter tears. He called the old girl Ruth, it’s from the Bible he said, And she’s been a great friend as he patted her old head. He said I can’t really complain cause the Lord’s been mighty good to me and old Ruth, He said we’re both getting pretty tired and mighty long in the tooth. Said reckon this’ll be the last time I make it out this a way, He laughed and said heck when you’re as old as us you thank God for each new day. There must have been four to five families here and kids by the score, As the old preacher dismissed us you got that sinking feeling you wouldn’t be seeing him no more. This man of God deserved so much more than his old mule and the clothes on his back, But he said my reward is not of this earth, as he placed his old Bible into his traveling sack. As he got ready to leave he shook everyone’s hand and rubbed a few heads, Then he mounted old Ruth, and the little crowd handed to him a sack of coffee , some bacon and different kinds of breads. He said God be with you good folks and always walk in His light, Then he tapped old Ruth and they suddenly vanished plumb out of sight.
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