Poem April 29, 1985 Issue

The prodigal

HILLARY HAUSER

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 You
Waited patiently.

Knowing I would return, You smiled, and in Your song You said:
In My kingdom there are many mansions—
Waiting for you.

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
Where help comes from
April 29, 1985
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit