Poem March 9, 1935 Issue

The Fields Are White

GWEN M. CASTLE

The fields are white to harvest, Jesus said,
But those who labor in them, few indeed.
The little ones are hungering to be fed;
Shall we not hearken to them when they plead?
Give us our daily bread—we hear the prayer,
And have so much to give, so much to share.

The seed he sowed has ripened into grain,
The bread of Life that meets the children's need.
Shall we who love him let them cry in vain;
Shall those of us who hear them pay no heed?
Today, as yesterday, his words are true—
The fields are white, the laborers are few.

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

Send a comment to the editors
NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
Signs of the Times
March 9, 1935
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit