The spirit appears in the midst of darkness, wiping away the little girl’s tears, chasing away the child’s fears, piecing together the shattered shards of hearts.

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One evening about four years ago, while spending time with our granddaughter, I noticed she was very involved working on her tablet. I asked, “What are you doing, Sweetie?” She replied with her head lowered over the tablet, “Oh, just doing something for my Religion class at school.”  Of course, that got me curious, “Really, like what?” She kind of mumbled, still intent on her composing, “Oh, just a poem.” Patiently waiting, my curiosity building, I replied, still not wanting to interrupt her, but having to know, “That sounds interesting!” After a while, with her head still lowered, she asked, “Would you like to read it when I’m through?” I instantly responded, “Yes, I sure do!” 

After a time, she showed me a copy of her poem which I am going to share with you. It brought tears to both my husband and myself. When she saw my tears, she said, “Grandmama, I didn’t want you to cry!” I replied, wiping my eyes, “No, sweetheart, these are tears of love to my Lord. Thank you for letting me read it!” I later asked if I can share her poem with others. My precious fourteen-year-old graciously gave me permission.  I hope it touches you as it does me and we all can learn to love Him more.


The rough scrape of torn flesh on wood

Iron’s sharp tooth biting through bone

The mocking voices of ignorance

a breath

a cry

the drip of blood

the fading breath of a soul leaving its body

the turning tides of time

dulling the presence of faith

then the sun embraces the earth in warmth

the stone falls away from the tomb

with a flash of light

life is restored once again

and with soft-spoken words and vicious scars revealed

belief is coaxed back into the tainted hearts of men

the Spirit then dwells in the unseen place of the soul

forever remaining

a constant presence

the waves of time then engulf the earth

belief and faith becomes a memory of the heart

corruption and pain reclaim the souls of men

the screams of angry parents

the tears of a little girl in her closet

the cries of a child for it to end

the feeling of being alone

the loss of hope

the need for peace

then, a soft warmth

the spirit appears in the midst of darkness

wiping away the little girl’s tears

chasing away the child’s fears

piecing together the shattered shards of hearts,

their precious souls

their innocence

restoring their tainted memories

seeing His children engulfed in pure light

He resides in the souls of mankind

He is there to comfort His children

forever present,

forever there,

the Spirit of comfort,

the Savior.

©️Amber …18 years old


Featured Image by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

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About the Author

A daughter of the King.