We do attend a country church,
And though, in numbers, small,
Their hearts, each one, are kind and large,
On THAT, they do stand TALL.
While going through a period
Of drought, a time of 'lean',
Eventually, we came to learn
What love so free, does mean.
An envelope here, a gift-card there,
To keep bills paid, us fed,
No one did know what others gave,
They all were Spirit led.
The love, concern, they did employ,
Was humbling, I'll admit,
I don't believe, in all my years
I've witnessed care, like it.
Whene'er we had our stove fire,
Love true, once more was known,
One member gave a LONG TIGHT hug,
"YOU MATTER" was, me, shewn.
And even NOW, they STILL check up,
A quiet word, on the side,
Ensuring that we stay afloat,
Not 'swallowed up' in tide
And while the church (the FAMILY)
Has been named GENERATIONS,
Me personally, I do believe,
It SHOULD be GENEROUS'uns.
Feb 04 Once MORE, this little country church
Their generous'ty shown,
A vehicle, leant, 'til mine returns,
Their bounds of LOVE, unknown.
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