Poem August 2, 1941 Issue

The Hour of Sunday School

Miriam Dean Blackburn

This is a holy hour when Love unfolds
The budded petal of the children's thought;
When Truth, with swift and tender fingers, takes
The golden key to wisdom's garden door.
This is an hour when understanding calls,
illumination flows from heart to heart;
And where the need is greatest, there it falls,
So making fruitful every fallow part.
The spiritual conversation heals.
A peacefulness attends the study room
As there the presence of the Christ reveals
The true reflection, even now in bloom.
This is an hour when, through the loosened tongue,
The Word of Truth is spoken and is sung.

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
August 2, 1941
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit