Poem January 21, 1991 Issue

A librarian's prayer

Janeve Warren Whalley

They pass by
scurrying to lunch
packages in their arms
children tagging along.

And here I sit—waiting
for them to come in
so I can explain:
How good God is.
How He can govern their lives.
How He will meet their needs.

And yet—aren't they already God's children?
I cannot make them more so!

Dear God—help me to see the perfect man
as the Master did.
Still any self-righteousness that would
inadvertently build walls of partition
between "me" and "them."
Let me acknowledge the understanding
which, though momentarily dormant,
is already part of my fellowman's true nature.

Janeve Warren Whalley

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