Poem February 8, 1936 Issue

A Prayer

EDNA J. PHILLIPS

Dear Father-Mother, like a little child
I look to Thee, Thou one eternal good.
Thou hearest when I turn in humble mood,
E'en though the tempest surges swift and wild.
Love taught me how to close the temple door
And leave materiality behind,
Then speak to Thee, and in the silence find
Thy presence waiting, waiting, evermore.
I thank Thee, God, for Spirit's sanctuary.
I thank Thee for Thy Son, who knew the way
To enter in, and showed us how to tarry
In Thy dear presence, whether night or day.
Oh, Father-Mother, teach me as I go,
To share this peace, and let my brother know.

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