The Widow’s Mite

Easter joy has disappeared!

A somber heart that can’t be cheered!

The field of wheat has all been cleared! 

Easter joy has disappeared!

 
An offering’s ash on me is smeared!

For fear of men is not revered!

A cross of love in me is seared!

An offering’s ash on me is smeared!

 

A child of God is nearly reared!

A heart from sin is gently steered!

Towards  widow’s mite it’s softly veered!

A child of God is nearly reared!

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