MY TURN IN THE NURSERY
Last Sunday was my turn in the nursery to work.
My heart wasn't in it; my feelings were hurt.
A child from its mother did not want to part
And it cried a lot with its broken heart.
I prayed that soon the hour would end,
That I could relax -- no more children to tend.
Soon the hour was over, it felt good to be free.
I said, "Once a month was too much for me!"
The very next Sunday as I sat in the pew
A very good sermon, but visitors were few.
But down came a woman and her soul was saved.
She was the mother of that crying babe!
Then it dawned on me that I had been a part
Of one being saved -- giving God her heart.
From that day on I would never dread
Working in the nursery while souls are fed.
