Prayer's Thread in Life's Tapestry
A Mother’s Prayer
The
sweetest sound heard through our earthly home,
The
brightest ray that gleams from heaven’s dome,
The
loveliest flower that e’er from earth’s breast rose,
That
purest flame that, quivering, gleams and glows,
Are
found alone, where kneels a mother mild`
With
heart uplifted, praying for her child.
The
stream of tears can never cease to flow
Long
as life’s sun shall shine on us below;
And
many angels have been sent by God
To
count the tear-drops wept upon life’s road;
But
of all the tears that flow, the least defiled
Are
when a mother prays beside her child.
Because
it is to mortal eyes unseen,
Ye
call it foolishness, a childish dream,
In
vain, ye cannot rob me of that thought,
That
legend with such heavenly sweetness fraught,
That
blessed angels have for ages smiled
To
see a mother praying for her child.
Anonymous
The Little Boy Thou Gavest Me
Dear Lord, I bring to Thee my son,
Whose tender years have scarce begun.
In this wee frame I know full well
A living soul has come to dwell
Who needs Thee now at childhood's gate,
Ere he shall grow to man's estate.
I covenant through hours apart
To pray for him with fervent heart,
To teach Thy Word with winsome voice
By day and night until his choice
Be but Thy blood for sin's deep stain
And my small son is born again.
Then onward shall I pray the more
And teach Thy precepts o'er and o'er,
That he may grow, each boyhood hour,
By Thine indwelling risen power,
Lord, some small boys with none to care
Will never hear a mother's prayer;
Prepare my son with love aflame
To reach them with Thy saving name.
And make him Lord, a polished tool,
A learner in Thy highest school.
A mother's part seems, oh, so frail!
But Thy strong arm can never fail
Expectantly I yield to Thee
The little boy Thou gavest me.
Louise B. Eavey