At first I said, “No!” How could I believe?  And yet I knew she would not deceive.

At first I said, “No!” but then had a dream, and to His Will, I humbly agreed.

A simple man, a lowly maid,

the nails and wood they were my trade.

I taught Him how to humbly pray

to God the Father every day.

I taught His young boy’s Hands to shape

the wood from trees; His work create.
 
 

 

With His Mother blest, we cared for Him;

while knowing His Time had yet to begin.

We lost Him, then in Temple found

His young boy’s wisdom

with teachers surround.

 

My Baby Jesus, growing Man,

I was with You when Your Life began.

But God has His Plan,

and it was not to be

  that I would see You taken from me.

 

 

They nailed You to a wooden cross and left You there to die,

In suffering and pain You called out to God and

abandoned Yourself to the Father on High.

But death has no victory o’er this Man born to save,

and just as You promised, You arose from the grave.

 

On Jerusalem’s mount You will return, Son of God,

above the land Your Feet once trod;

until that day we wait joyfully to see,

the carpenter’s Son from Galilee.

 

 

© Maureen P. Foley
Click here to email author. 

March 19, 1995

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