Even To the End

How cold this Sunday morning in Lent; March winds are puffing their cheeks to blow, And to stay under covers is temptation’s thrust, Then I heard a TV say “body and blood” and I go. I go to find reverence and peace and aria and love, Surrounded I am with others whose smiles Seem to be inspired I believe from above, and I know That I would walk or drive for miles and miles To be enfolded with what I carried this morning, For year after year from my parent’s leading, How grateful am I to them as I approach the last of this life, He hasn’t forgotten me, continues His pleading. I know there will be Sundays when temptation will win, And I will weep inside for my weakness, but then He will say to me, “I forgive you, I know your heart, and “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end ...”