September 1, 2017

My Journey to God

Hold My Hand

A busy street, a child so fair—
She walks beside her mother there.
Her solemn eyes are filled with tears,
Her voice portrays her vivid fears,
“Mom, please hold my hand.”

The mother’s hand picks up the child’s—
The child looks up and sweetly smiles,
For she has also placed her fears
In mother’s hands, and dried her tears.
Mom now holds her hand.

A pilgrim traveling all alone—
He’s poor and weak, he can’t go on—
He bows his head and murmuring, he
Sends forth a heartfelt, earnest plea,
“God, please hold my hand.”

God reaches down, he’s heard the prayer—
He helps his child with tender care.
The pilgrim smiles and journeys on,
His fear and loneliness are gone.
God now holds his hand.

By Ron Lewis
 

(Ron Lewis is a member of St. Anthony of Padua Parish in Clarksville and an oblate of Saint Meinrad Archabbey in St. Meinrad.)

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