The Awakening

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Anona Tomlinson Peterson

"I'm only a visiting teacher," she said. And her head hung low.
"I'm really not very important. I guess I'll not even go.
I'm sure that no one will miss me. No one will really care.
I'll see to my work this morning, instead of going there."

So she hurried around all morning. Her home was polished and swept.
When stopping to rest for a moment, she sat in her chair and slept.
And scarce had her eyelids fluttered, before a vision came to her sight;
And standing there before her was a personage clothed in white.

She saw in His hands the nail prints;
His brow where the thorns had lain;
His side where the sword had pierced it;
His face with it's look of pain.

"I gave you some work to do," it seemed she heard Him say.
"You thought it of no importance, so you stayed home today."
"You did not deliver my message; you did not feed my sheep.
You only swept and polished and stayed at home to sleep."

"Oh, Master," she cried, "forgive me,
that I should fail to see,
Had I done it unto the least of these,
I'd have done it unto Thee."