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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1019925
A true poem about praying
A Hole in The Plaster Wall


I think of it as a reminder, a note from God above.
It was sent to tell a child of five of His abiding love.
Just a hole in an old plaster wall, right next to my small bed.
To my mind it looked like Jesus, there to comfort me instead.

With a chubby little finger the hole's outline I would trace
Each night as I would say my prayers and feel God's wonderful grace.
The memories of a childhood in a home of love and care
And my Jesus hole reminding me to say my evening prayer.

Once waking in the dark of night to some loud and frightening thing,
I put my hand upon the hole and heard God's angels sing.
It didn't last forever, change is inevitable, you know.
Time to move to a brand new home, yes the time had come to go.

My childish mind was terrified, I cried well into the night.
Though grownups could not understand it, my heart was filled with fright.
For fear of being laughed at, I'd told no one about the hole
And now I had to leave it, a treasure, I thought, held my soul.

I said good-bye to the Jesus hole, but God's presence doesn't part.
My prayers came right along with me, a habit burned in my heart.
Many years have passed since then, but the story I still recall,
How I was taught to talk to God by a hole in a plaster wall.
© Copyright 2005 StoryBug (dmeinershagen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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