It's Sunday again, and I'm on my way to hear all the
things that God has
to say. My very own place where
no one can see.
Each week I am there by
my favorite tree.
I watch everyone as they're walking in, with dresses
of silk and suits
for the men.
I know they are blessed.
It shows on their face.
happy to share God's holiest place.
I wish I could go, but I don't belong. I couldn't shame
God with clothes
that are wrong. As I wait to hear the pastor's
sweet voice, these dark clouds appear:
I must make a
choice. With thunder so loud, and
lightning all 'round, I run to
through rain pouring down. I open the door, so quiet
and slow. I'll stay
in the back so no one will know.
As I turn around the silence was there.
Heads turned one by one.
started to stare.
The whispers I heard had hurt even more. Especially
the one I heard by the door. "How dare she come
in to this holy
. . Her dress is just rags, with
dirt on her face." I thought to myself, "How cruel
they can be!" As I watched each one just staring
at me. I felt so ashamed. My tears start to
fall. I clung to my dress, not
moving at all.
When I turned to leave I heard someone say, "Please
join us my friend. I've prayed for this day."
As I turned to see,
the pastor had
tears in his eyes for me.
He led me up to the very
front row. And whispered "God's pleased. You
have to go."
The carpet was soft as clouds in the sky. I saw
paintings of the
angels that fly.
Such colors of
red, bright silver, and gold. Yes,
was a sight
to behold. Unworthy I felt to be in this place. And
then my eyes saw the pain on
- - A statue
of Christ that stood very tall. Mistreated by man,
yet died for us all.
Then, I had noticed the dirt on His face, and rags that
He wore, in this
Holy place. I looked at my
dress - - so
ragged and torn. Yes this was the
best that I could
The pastor then smiled when he looked at me.
knew this was what I
needed to see.
for the day when church was all through:
"Judge Ye Not Your Brother,
For God Will Judge You."
In silence they left.
He said no 'good-byes'.
he came by me
with tears in his eyes. He said he
was glad for his answered prayer. I knew then
he'd seen me sitting out there.
Then on my old dress a white rose he laid.
it all worth the
price I had paid.
He said, "Don't you
know? It's God you must please? What's deep in
your heart is all that he sees."
He held my hand tight,
then wiped my last tear. He said,
You are welcome here."
While walking back home cold rain on my
face - -
much like the eyes in
"God's Holy Place."
I know now I'm rich. Yes, he made me see, God
even will love a person
to Freda H. Babinski
has a site.
cover. It is
us. As this
writing says God
us as we
are. If you