Poem November 3, 1934 Issue

Messengers

EDITH L. PERKINS

Twas nothing but a common little flower—
A bit of bloom beside the dusty way—
Yet of its best bestowing hour by hour,
The cheer it gave the traveler, who can say!

Twas nothing more than just a little word—
A grain of truth unconsciously that fell—
But gladness came to one who, sorrowing, heard,
A joy that grateful heart alone can tell.

May every thought with love be redolent,
Each word and deed express the Christ benign;
God is the Giver, His the message sent,
Our humble part reflecting the divine.

Send a comment to the editors

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE

Article

Signs of the Times