Sarah's poem

(Help when I needed it, from a long-ago friend)

Hello, morning child!Why, here we are again—I see you are waiting for the Messiah ...He's going to come; that's what you've been thinking,Oh yes!But listen to this, little one.He's right here, and nowit's up to me and you ...What's that you say? You wish you could see himstanding here in front of us so you could touch him?To touch your Saviour, mercy!

That reminds me of those days when we watched the morning sun,all streaks across your bedroom wall.You couldn't really touch it, that morning sun ...But you could see and feel it:warm like cotton, soft and bright, such a friendly place,with those shadows dancing all around.How we do enjoy it, yes, how we do!But touch it? Catch it?Never, child, it doesn't work that way.

There's always room for you
January 11, 1988

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