As a youngster I remember,
going to a little store;
My Mom and Dad knew just what kind,
of candy I'd look for.
I'd go straight for the Tootsy-rolls,
and, just as I went in,
I'd ask my Dad, "How many?"
And Dad would say, "Get ten."
My parents never wondered,
how many there would be;
not nine, and not eleven,
for my parents trusted me.
And thus, their trust in me did grow,
on fragile fledgling wings;
They learned that they could trust me,
in more important things.
In teen-age years, when there were times,
I'd go out with a friend,
they trusted me, to always be,
back in the house by ten.
They knew they never had to fear,
if a guy and I were in a car;
for knowing God was ever near,
protected me from going far.
Today, with wings at full span spread,
this young bird now flies free;
my parents' hearts conceive no dread,
they fully trust in me.
Blessed is the child who grows the wings,
of trust by doing as he's told,
and, learning thus,
knows how to trust,
when born into the Shepherd's fold.
Blessed are the parents who spend each day,
teaching what is right and just;
who watch their fledglings soar away,
to the Father's arms, on wings of trust.
(Page and Poem Copyright 2004 by Quipster
All Rights Reserved)