Digital Tradition Mirror

As a Child

As a Child
(Bob Clayton)

"Hug me!  Hug me!" the little girl cried,
As she tugged at her mother's skirt,
Arms reaching up in supplication,
Crying and pleading and hurt.
So the mother turned away from her grown-up conversation
To lift the child up in her arms,
To wipe away the tears and give her her love,
Keeping her safe from harm.

Chorus:   You've got to tug at God's skirt like your mother's,
     Hold to God's hand like your Dad.
     Trust in God's love as a little child,
     For the wholeness that we've never had --
        The wholeness and peace that we've never had.

"I don't want to go to bed!" the little boy said,
As he struck out and kicked at his dad.
"You know that you have to -- it's way past your bed-time,
Don't make your daddy mad!"
So father held son till all the rage had left him,
And the hot tears stopped running so free;
Then the boy fell asleep in his father's arms,
Trusting the love he could see.


The older we grow, the more we think we know,
As years are piled onto years.
We've forgotten to trust like a child in our hearts,
Replacing all that love with our fears.
And when we make mistakes or get into trouble,
We tremble at the debt that we owe,
And forget to tug at our loving mother's skirt,
Or take the hand of the father we know.


Copyright 1993, 1994, Bob Clayton, Silver Spring, MD

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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