After the heat of the battle's
long day,
John happened to pass where a
young soldier lay;
Covered with blood, limbs
twisted askew ...
And found, after all, his
compassion still grew.
So, John moistened the dying
man's lips and his face,
And lovingly straightened his
limbs into place.
He listened, and prayed, and
stayed by his side;
Trying to comfort him ere he
died.
Jim looked up at John. So
grateful was he.
And, as life slipped away, just
a faint word could be.
A request for a paper was what
John heard.
With a blunt lead pencil, Jim
wrote his last words,
"Dear Dad, Receive John, I
humbly pray.
For, he has made my last moments
easier today.
He has done all he could, nor
left me alone.
So for my sake, Dear Father,
treat him as your own."
Love, Jim
The war ended soon and though
John was ill clad,
He had promised to get Jim's
last words to his dad.
So, he made the long journey.
Weary and worn,
he found, at last, the way to
Jim's home.
The father was wealthy; not used
to such sights
Of tattered, bedraggled, rough
soldiers at night.
What could an unkempt, ragged,
man have to give;
Soldier or not, of least
interest to him?
Then, the note was tenderly
handed and read.
And, the weeping old father
believed what it said.
For that trembling hand
portrayed clearly to him
The familiar slant with the
signature, "Jim."
The old father reached (though
immaculate he)
And drew John as close as could
possibly be.
He wept and he held John next to
his breast;
Drew him inside for good food
and rest.
He lay at John's hands anything
he might need.
He dressed him in velvet and
gave him his steed.
Jim's father loved John in a
very special way,
Because of the name on that
crude note that day.
Now, I stand in my tattered old
rags of sod
Before an immaculate, pure, holy
God;
In need, oh, yes, in such
terrible need.
And, not one single part can be
furnished by me.
But, I have a note and it's
written in red.
He opens it up. As I tremble, it
says,
"Father, open the gate for My
sake I pray.
This one is mine, paid in full
today."
Love, Jesus
All the glory and splendor of
Heaven is mine!
I'm made worthy to stand in His
presence divine!
Not for me, but for Him! Not my
works, but His own
Have gained me a robe, and a
crown, and a Home!
Joan Clifton Costner
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