Please Daddy, Let's Go

A little girl with shining eyes,
Her upturned face aglow,
Said, "Daddy, it's almost time
For Sunday School, you know;
Let's go and hear of Jesus' love
Of how He died for all,
To take them to His home above
Who on His name will call."

"Oh no," said Daddy, "Not to-day;
I've worked hard all the week;
And I must have one day of rest,
And fishing's find they say;
So run along, don't bother me,
We'll go ANOTHER day."

Months and years have passed away,
But Daddy hears that plea no more--
"Let's go to Sunday School..."
Those childish days are o'er.

And now that Daddy's growing old,
And life is almost through,
He finds some time to go to church,
BUT, what does daughter do?
She says, "Oh, daddy, not to-day.
Was out almost all night;
I've got to get a little sleep:
Besides, I look a fright."

Then daddy lifts a trembling hand
To brush away the tears;
Again he hears that pleading voice,
Distinctly through the years,
He sees a small girl's upturned face,
Upturned with eyes aglow,
Saying, "It's time for Sunday School.
Please, daddy, won't you go?"

~Author Unknown~

A father and a dad are not the same:
One can be a dad and not a father,
Or one can be a father and not bother
To earn through love the more endearing name.
Some find fatherhood a bit too tame,
Leaving all the details to the mother,
Or dumping the sweet burden on another
Man with just a passing twinge of shame.
You have been our dad so many years
That you've become the landscape that is home,
The mountain that we look to from afar.
No matter where we go we're not alone,
For you remain within to still our fears
And be the word that tells us who we are.

~Nicholas Gordon~

(A letter to God . . .
for those who's Father is no longer here.)

Father's Day . . . it's different now
I cannot send a gift or card
on this Father's Day
And so I'm telling you, dear God
the things I want to say.

Tell him first in gentle tone
how very much I care
How proud I am to be his own
and long to meet him there.

Tell him how very grateful I am
for all the years we had
how thankful I am for having such
a wonderful and loving Dad.

Tell him I miss his wise advice
on problems great and small
how I knew he would always find a way
to take care of them all.

But please don't tell him about my grief
which sometimes overshadows all
Or the lonely hours I sit and wait
and listen for his call.

Just tell him I'll always remember
the good things that he taught
The many things that I should do
and the things that I should not.

This Father's Day is not the same
now that he's gone away
But tell him God, I love him so
he's with you this Father's Day.

~Author Unknown~

To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born,
and a time to die;
a time to plant,
and a time to pluck up
that which is planted;

A time to kill,
and a time to heal;
a time to break down,
and a time to build up;

A time to weep,
and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn,
and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones,
and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace,
and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get,
and a time to lose;
a time to keep,
and a time to cast away;

A time to rend,
and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,
and a time to speak;

A time to love,
and a time to hate;
a time of war,
and a time of peace.

~Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8~