I will admit I was not there

When Moses led them free.

I did not smell the salty air

While crossing the Red Sea.

I did not weep at Jesus’s feet.

Not one tear did I shed

On Calvary’s hill, nor did I see

My Savior’s thorn-crowned head.

I did not wave the battle flag

Nor wield a Nephite sword

To fight for ancient liberty

With Moroni in Cumorah’s war.

When wagons creaked and children slept

Upon the dirt and snow,

To die to reach their Zion land,

No handcart did I tow.

And yet, we have a Father who

Provided us a way

Through faith, desire, and humble prayer

To see all truths this day.

We need not have been there, my friend.

No eyewitness then need we have.

Through the still, small voice’s whisperings,

Our faith in these shall live.

Photo of the Month by Jennifer Rossiter