The Good Harvest
The Good Harvest
Years ago I was a farmer,
And my neighbor had a field.
But he let it go to briars,
He was not concerned with yield.
As I passed his field one evening,
In my pocket there I found,
Four tiny seeds left over.
From those I'd planted in the ground.
So I tossed them in his garden,
Not so mindful what would be.
If they sprouted with the briars
Mid the chaos what we'd see
Summer rains and hot sun blasted.
Wind and snow upon the ground.
In the spring I gladly noted,
When there among the weeds I found.
Little plants with leaves uplifted,
Burst through the cluttered sod.
Like the Saints on Sunday morning.
Hands uplifted praising God.
Four dirty unkempt siblings
Wiggling squirming in their chairs.
No one watching no one caring,
How or why we found them there.
Rowdy, lively always talking
They put my patience to the test.
But I found that they were hungry
So I did my very best.
Jesus loved the little children
Each one precious in his eyes.
Long years passed and I am grateful.
For I found a sweet surprise
In the field where I had labored.
The word of God as best I could.
I found four happy Christians planted
Strong and faithful, that is good.
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