The prodigal

You were always there, no matter how often I strayed.You took me by the hand, gently, never stern—Forgiving, always.Father, I had left your house—There was the fun, the applause,And I followed those.

Yet YouWaited patiently.

NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
Where help comes from
April 29, 1985
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit