He used small oil lamps for His light.

His Father was His teacher.

He wrote on tablets, read from scrolls,

Was kind to all earth’s creatures.

He ate wild honey, bread, and fish,

Wore robes and sandals cool,

Could work with wood—a carpenter,

Was handy with each tool.

He healed the sick and raised the dead.

His Father’s word He knew.

He suffered in Gethsemane

For the sins of me and you.

He died upon a wooden cross.

He did His Father’s will.

He chose to always do what’s right,

His mission to fulfill.

I’ll follow in His footsteps

By choosing right each day.

I’ll love and serve my Savior

By the things I do and say.

Painting by Harry Anderson

Photo by John Luke, posed by model