THE PASTOR

The Shepherd of his little flock. He labors through the years. He joins them in their laughter And guides them through their tears.

He joins the young in marriage, And starts them on their way, Their source of strength and guidance, As they travel day by day.

He visits all his sick and weak With a prayer that God will heal. Devotes his life among his flock, with all his might and zeal.

In troubled days when death strikes home, In this dark old world of sin, He's always there to ask his Lord To take his loved one in.

He follows to the open grave To lay a friend to rest. Through faith he prays "Thy will be done" "My Lord, Thou knowest best".

LIFE

These knarled hands once held a plow, They toiled in the sun and rain. This aging body once was young And seldom knew a pain.

These tired old legs once strolled the fields where ever game might be. These two dull eyes once sharp and bright found game up in a tree.

The children came and our lives were full, We watched them toddle and grow. We worked and played in summer heat, Stayed warm in Winter snow.

But the Golden Years passed swiftly by Like a driving prairie wind, The children all grew up and left, Leaving us alone again.

The will to fight seems now to wane, We know all things must end. I'm living now "One day at a time" With a Doctor for a friend.

John L. Gwaltney