[Faith-talk] Good Night Message for Friday, July 13 2012

[Paul]

Hello and good evening to my fellow saints of the Most High God residing in North America, and good day to the rest of you residing in other parts of our world.  You probably thought that I forgot to post the good night message.  Well, better late than never.  How was your day today? Mine was good, and my evening was just as great at a local franchise of the Chillies Restaurant chain.  The six other Christian singles besides me really were intrigued and interested in the Braille and large print menu that I was perusing, with a number of insightful questions about the Braille system.  Well, I at least broke down somewhat a barrier between the blind and the sighted.  As usual I ate too much and, if you were there, you would have to agree.

Miss Mae L. Gingrich of Hummelstown PA contributed tonight's poem.  It is rather clever, and it is entitled "Just a Dime," rendered as follows:

I'm just a little tiny dime,
A story I will tell.
My coat is made of silver fine;
I'm used to buy or sell.

I left the mint four days ago
To serve my countrymen.
I've gone through rain and sleet and snow,
Past cities more than ten.

'Ere very long I heard a voice:
"Now, can I help you, please??
"Oh, yes you may,
I've made my choice,
This dolly for my niece."

The clerk came up to make the change.
I saw her grab for me.
She handed us to someone strange,
A dime and pennies three.

The lady put us in her purse
Among some dollar bills.
Just then I thought,
"Why, she's a nurse
Who gave folks drops and pills."

She soon went out and crossed the street
To where a beggar stood.
His clothes were poor, but clean and neat;
His eyes looked kind and good.

She tossed me in his old tin cup
To help as best I could.
Maybe I'd go to buy some grub, maybe some coal or wood.

When evening came, the beggar said,
"I've fared quite well today."
He gave me for a loaf of bread,
Then hurried on his way.

The baker dropped me by mistake;
I rolled upon the floor.
A girl rushed in to buy a cake
And kicked me out the door.
I surely thought I met my doom,
Then came a little lad.
He picked me up and started home,
His face no longer sad.
He put me in his pocket
Till next Sunday morning came.
"I'll give you the Lord," said Phil,
Hallowed by His name.

My mission now has just begun
As round the world I go
To help the poor and needy ones,
Their Christ to love and know.

And there you have it for tonight's poem.  One question I have, and perhaps no one can answer it.  Because former presidential candidate Newt Gingrich came from that part of Pennsylvania originally, could this author have possibly been a relative? Just curious.

Well, time for the undersigned to get ready for bed.  In the meantime, why don't several of you take up a blanket and tuck me in, using the hands of your heart to do just that.  Because, despite the summertime temperatures, it's still a bit cool here.  Thanks in advance.

And now may the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and collectively, throughout the night or day, especially in these last evil days in which we live.  Your Christian brother, Paul