Poem May 16, 1953 Issue

"BE NOT AFRAID OF THEIR FACES"

Jeremiah 1:8

Rita Berman

My little boy, prodigal of a coin
His father gave him, bought himself a toy
Such as he'd seen the other children wear,
A false face, whose fantastic visage he
Affixed by strings to his small ears, and then,
"Now watch me frighten Mother!"

He running came;
But seemed crestfallen when I showed no fear,
Until I said, all gay: "You can't fool me!
I know what's behind that clever mask of yours;
Don't think you can hide my lovely child from me!"
And gently I peeped beneath and met his smile.

How often, how often, through the ensuing years,
Has that scene flashed upon the inward eye,
Applying meaning in the long parade
Of hardened, weary, pained, despondent masks
Humanity has lifted to my gaze!
And sacred is the voice that bids me lift
With spiritual touch the fearsome thoughts
That paint a grotesque and evil image where
The Truth sees ever, radiant, Love's own child!

Rita Berman

Send a comment to the editors

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit

"BE NOT AFRAID OF THEIR FACES"

We'd love to hear from you!

Sign up for unlimited access