The Fragment

THE FRAGMENT It was just a fragment--a crumb left in the way, Left from loaves and fishes people ate that day. Birds could well have had it, no one would have cared; Everyone had eaten, it was now left there. It could have been trampled deep into the ground, Soiled and overtaken, never to be found. Insects could have feasted as the crowd had done-- What good was this fragment now to anyone? Yet a voice then beckoned from the feasting host, “Gather up the fragments so that none are lost.” Someone knew that fragment need not be left there For the birds or insects; someone really cared! Someone else was hungry, the fragments still could be Food on someone’s table, useful still to see. Though it was a fragment, held within that hand, He could multiply it, spread it through the land. And when all the fragments had been gathered then, They now filled twelve baskets for other hungry men. I was like that fragment, torn through sin and pride, Thought of now as useless, to be cast aside. Jesus, though, was willing to pay all the cost To gather up the fragments so that none were lost. He knew I had value, though a sinsick soul, So He died to save me and to make me whole. Though I felt so trampled, trodden in the ground, He did not give up on me, sought till I was found. Though I’m still a fragment in His hand today, With so many others, He can find a way To help me be useful where I’m needed most To gather up the fragments so that none are lost.