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In Living Color
There's a painted picture of three little girls.
Neither of them had EXPENSIVE little curls.
I noticed a lot compared to my childhood world.
In that picture, I have memories in a thousand words.
Sometimes, I wish the memory would fly away like birds.
From a very young age, like them, I was put to work.
Deep inside, I felt the wounds of emotional hurt.
I don't know if their country has child labor laws.
But my country had such laws that did not apply to all.
I'm sure such reality left a BRUISE each year by the end of Fall.
It seems they are working in fields of barley or wheat.
I worked from 6 to 6 in fields of cotton, corn, and heat.
It's hard to tell if their parents were owners of the land.
It's easy for me to tell that my parents were farmhands.
Perhaps they were landowners because there was hope in the girls' eyes.
My eyes revealed a CONVINCING desire to depart to survive and thrive.
But God lifted my eyes far above the fields of labor and limitation.
God's grace and love enabled me to rise above my negative situation.
Copyright ©
Curtis Johnson
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