Born to poor parents in southern Missouri,
This boy learned early that pain and misery
Are both parts of life along with the rest.
At 16, he heard a call from God at the creek,
While gathering water in buckets for the week.
No mention to parents of what took place.
He was scared by the request and didn't know how
To answer the "call" until '45 when he made his vow
That he would do what God had asked.
Following that promise, he started his studies
At college where he made no buddies
But took care of wife and child.
The first church he pastored was Six Mile,
Greeting everyone on Sunday with a smile
And spoke from the pulpit with soft voice.
Home life was adequately comfortable
And we shared prayer when sitting at table
Thankful for each meal we ate.
Weekdays were spent at the church office,
Went home for any lunch that would suffice
And returned to work again.
Time moved quickly, one church and another;
He anointed deacons and then called them 'brother'
While wife stayed home and son went to school.
Monday was his favorite:  a day off.
But deacon's wives were known to scoff,
So he and wife would leave town for the day.
In '73, he'd had a long day with his ministry,
Left church, drove south, fell asleep, hit a tree.
Rest in Peace, Dad.
 

© 2005 George E. Thompson