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Can't help, but HELP.

 Many moons ago, late teen years,

'Youth group' leader, now passed,

An elder in my church, then,

His cancer, took him, fast.


Good friend to eldest brother,

Knew ALL our fam-il-y, 

One day before my birthday,

Those Heaven's Gates, he'd see.


Unbeknownst to me, years earlier,

My parents, he had told,

"Your Colin has the 'Gift of Helps'

He'd seen that gift unfold.


Our church choir, I had joined it

At seventeen years old,

Didn't know what part I'd sing there,

"Sound like a bass", was told.


So when I'd joined the choir there,

Sat 'tween two men, one blind,

Th'other, he'd suffered a Stroke,

In middle, you'd, me, find.


Back then, I still had seizures,

Though with them, took the role,

Of caring for those members,

It seemed I'd found my goal.


The blind guy, I would lead in,

Remind which hymn, was due,

Th'other, hymn book open,

T'whatever hymn was due.


Aft' career in caring over,

It came eas'ly to me,

I STILL see 'helping' chances

Wherever I may be.


At home, where I'm residing,

Few residents own car,

I'm pleased that I can drive them

Whether going near, or far.


At present church, one member,

Commented, about me,

"There's Colin, with the "Help Me" gene,"

I do it all, with glee.





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