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ROCK-Salt! Art Proctor

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They used to call me Angel
by ROCK-Salt! Art Proctor
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This is a true story about a sister in the Lord, that came to me thru the years for encoragement and support, and prayers. She married a Count from some small European nation, and relayed this story to me. He finally got to the point of beating her, and they were dicvorced, about five years back. I don't know where she is now, and haven't heard from her since right after the divorce.But I KNOW that she is seeking her Godly man. I pray that she found him and that they are happy. Art







They used to call me, Angel!

 

 

They used to call me Angel, when I was two or three. Everyone said how lovely I was,

 What a beauty,

 I would be.

I reveled in their compliments, I prissed, and preened

Combed, and dressed;

I believed what they told me.

That fairness, beauty, grace, and pride, would

A life of ease, for me,

 Provide.

 

My suitors have been many, I even loved a few.

But for such a lovely Prim Donna,

 They would never do.

Too crass, too plain, too poor, for you,

 Nothing, dear, but a

Prince

 Will ever, really, do.

 

In fairy tales, the prince’s so fine,

How could I not, want?

 To make one

Mine.

 

So handsome, he came a courtin, from money did he come.

His family’s name, royalty claimed,

All my dreams

Rolled into one

But money and fame, they often breed,

 A man, who’s selfish,

 Full of greed.

A man who looks so fine and true ,

As he says he’will

 Take care of you.

 

Then when the wedding’s over, and

We talk of life’s great plans,

 I realize too late, that all his plans are planned.

 No room for me in his destiny,

 I’m just to look, pretty and stand by his side, and

 Give him children too, but

As for me and any of my life’s plans,

Well, that will,

Never do.

 

What of romance? What of your love? That’s supposed to

 Honor me,

 What of that promise that you’ll adore, and

  Always strive,

 To make the two, a

We!

 

I cry, I fight, I scream,

 For what I feel, should,

 Be mine,  

It only makes him stomp and shout,

 It only makes him,

 Mean.

 

In my tears and sorrow, I almost overlook,

 The one thing that will save me:

My very favorite Book.

It’s called the Holy Bible,

And my aunt, did make it

 Mine

She used to read the stories, of

 Jesus and His love.

How to walk with my Savior,

 And in His light to

Shine.

 

So, I’ve written this little story, so

I could share with you: That the only,

 Thing that matters, when all is said and done.

 There’s no good man on this earth,

No not even one.

 The only good one, you’ll ever find, is

One who left this world, behind.

 One who gave himself, and follows, the Lord,

 Then a real Man you will find.

Who’s good to you, and loves you true ,

 Who, cares and adores, and,

 Treats you, oh, so

 Kind.

 

A man who follows Jesus,

Is what you better,

 Seek

Or you might find a prince like mine,

 That you won’t want to,

 Keep.


 

 

Art Proctor,

writing for,
Brenda --5-16-06



   

 

 


   



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Reviewed by Rhonda Galizia
Wow, ROCK - how'd I miss this one???

A great depiction of how having money and authority, by name, can steal, kill and destroy.

It's too easy in this world, for little girls to grow up...and serve the wrong "master".

I pray this write makes everyone think..about serving THE Master, Jesus Christ.

Brenda is utterly blessed to have a friend like you. I will add her to my prayers.

Love, SIS
Reviewed by Connie Hinnen Cook
Very good, Art! So sad that she was reduced to nothing but
Eye-Candy for her Prince. I pray she finds the right one.
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