Poem June 25, 1949 Issue

THE MORNING MEAL

Eleanor G. R. Young

It must have been upon a fair, sweet day
When all the air was fresh with morning dew
That the great Teacher bade his followers come
And share the morning meal
Beside the sea.
After that holy feast he gazed upon
The faces of his followers
Searchingly.

Peter, he knew, was eager, childlike, free,
Intense in his devotion;
He had been
Shown that mere human love
Could never stand
The mighty tests
That lay so near at hand.
To Peter, then, Jesus addressed
His words.

Small wonder Peter answered in surprise
When for the third time
The same question came—
The earnest, searching question—
"Lovest thou me?"
"Thou knowest that I love thee," Peter cried.
The gentle Master spoke to him again:
Insistently the words came,
"Feed my sheep."

O holy proof of our sincerity!
May we today accept that sacred charge;
May we feed those who hunger
For God's love.
There is no time for idleness or sleep.
Today, the challenge calls us—
"Feed my sheep."

Eleanor G. R. Young

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