To My Relief Society Sisters

Rebekah—

She of the water jar—

Dreamt not of glory

Nor an honored name

When she saw the thirsty traveler.

She poured out love

And charity

As freely as clear water from the well.

For you, her daughters,

I have no golden bracelets.

But I salute you in her name

And offer thanks and praise

For those who poured

In rich abundance,

To my need.