COUNT YOUR
BLESSINGS
As I was walking down the
street,
I saw a man who had no feet.
Because he had no feet to use,
He
did not complain he had no shoes.
Then, as I walked further
on,
I met a man who'd lost an arm.
He had no coat; he had no sleeve,
I
neither heard him cry nor grieve.
In a few more steps, whom
did I spy,
But a stumbling man with blinded eye.
He could not walk this
path alone,
I did not even hear him groan.
Somewhere else along my
walk,
I met a man who could not talk.
He could tell no one of his
pain,
He did not grumble or complain.
Another block brought
me quite near,
To a man who could not hear.
He never once had heard a
hymn,
But he kept his anguish closed within.
In that same block, whom
did I find,
But some lost soul without a mind.
A lot of babble he did
utter,
But no objection did he mutter.
Not much further did I
go,
I saw an old man moving slow.
His hands were gnarled; his back was
bent,
Not one complaint, did I hear him vent.
When my walk was nearly
through,
I found myself approaching you.
You always say there's something
wrong,
So, for that reason, hear this song.
Aren't you aware how you've
been blest?
Can't you see you've no distress?
Don't you know how whole you
are?
See where you've been and just how far?
Can't you quiet your
complaints?
Appreciate those men's restraints?
But...for our Father's
loving Grace,
Go you, within those poor souls' place.
by Ginny Ellis
Copyright 1999
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