Poem May 1, 1978 Issue

Rise

Zera Holland Blumenstein

Child, why weep?
The Father loves you tenderly,
knows your every need.

Do you hear His voice?
See, He has you with Him
even as a son,
dearly loved;
even as the Master
took the little ones,
suffered them to come.

Be glad, dear one,
and dry your eyes;
end grief;
turn pain aside.

Take up thy bed—

He's calling you
to rise.

Zera Holland Blumenstein

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