MY TURN IN THE NURSERY

Sunday was my turn in the Nursery to workMy heart wasn't in it; and my feelings were hurt;A child from its Mother did not want to partAnd it cried at lot with its broken heartI prayer that soon the hour would endThen I could relax - no more children to tendSoon the hour was over - felt good to be freeI said, "Once a month is too much for me"That very next Sunday as I sat in the pewA very good sermon but visitors were fewBut down came a woman and her soul was savedAnd she was that Mother of that crying babeThen it dawned on me that I had been a partOf one being saved - giving God their heartFrom that day on I never would dreadWorking in the Nursery while souls were being fed......


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