We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life. |
Micah is a three-year-old. He's really quite a boy. I wish I had a gift for him, a wondrous little toy. This is what I'll do for him. I'll write a little verse to tell him what he means to me, as does his aunt, the nurse. Three, these years ago, it's true blest Micah came to be, a boy among a fam'ly blest, a treasured son is he. Breath of fresh air he has been, redeeming a year so ill, and now the future has a win, like Dad's and Grand's best will. The ladies of the fam'ly, four are doting on this child with hugs and kisses. That, no doubt, and from his first day, Smiled. Young Micah, now you walk and talk, and do that very well. One day, I'm sure, you'll know The One, Whose Story you will tell. Jesus loves us. Can you sing about the little Boy, Who came at Christmas in some hay to give our hearts His Joy? "For God, He loved the whole wide world." His Boy became a Man, Who lived, and died, and rose, again. His perfect Saving Plan. Micah is the birthday boy. He's learning number three for that's how old he is today. He's growing as we see. Micah has so much to do. He plays, and eats, and grows. When I was three, my gift came late, a grandpa, that you know. by Jay O’Toole on August 14th, 2023 |