Poem March 18, 1944 Issue

God's Child

EDNA ALYS HURLEY

My son, your country's call
"To arms!" you've heard.
Serene I send you forth:
You have His Word.

I cannot walk your path.
Nor hardships share;
Yet I'll rejoice and know
That God is there.

If duty seems to call
To some far land,
I shall not fret or grieve—
You have His hand.

Each day I'll offer thanks
To God above
That you are His own child
And have His love.

I shall not see your face,
Yet I shall sing.
You are so surely safe
Beneath His wing.

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