Nobody believed he would survive as he lay there dying inside,

This young boy of twelve shot by an evil man with no heart.

A father with a faith so strong would never give up on a son,

His family, friends, and a town were concerned about his behavior.

He took his son to a wide open field of green grass where he might heal,

Set up camp and began to pray while his son lay motionless, staring.

He would build an altar of stone with a cross placed upon the top,

Seen for miles by travelers, talk of this altar and father would also spread.

Night was falling, the sun setting, supper was ready, and a visitor would show,

An old man with a cane would ask, let me try as the boy would not take broth.

The old man asked, if he is not saved will you lose your faith,? No said the father,

The old man went behind the altar, the father followed and the old man was gone.

Nothing but distance all around, where could he have gone, the father believed,

The father now wore a beard as the next night a storm was forming, this be the night.

The old man appeared in the dark and told the father, go to the altar! now!,

Lightning struck the altar and the father fell to the ground, the night was done.

When morning came and the sun rose in the sky his family was there wondering,

The father stepped from behind the altar, a true miracle as did his son with life.

Keith Garrett


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