Shabby Old Dad

His collar is frayed, and his trousers unpressed;
He's not a bit fussy the way he is dressed,
But he's always ready to help out the rest--
Shabby old Dad!

His shirts have queer stripes, and they're old-fashioned quite;
His ties are in strings, and they' re never tied right.
His last year's straw hat is a terrible sight--
Shabby old Dad!

His shoes need a shine, and his cuff links are tin;
He does sometimes shave, but his top hair is thin;
You hardly would say he was neat as a pin--
Shabby old Dad!

Shabby old Dad, with his heart full of woes,
And so much to think of besides buying clothes;
With the kids needing food, and the money! God knows!--
Shabby old Dad!

If there is a Heaven where peace can enfold
A life lived for others, a heart that's pure gold,
He'll go there and live there in glory untold--
Shabby old Dad!

by Anne Campbell

The Little Chap Who Follows Me

A careful man I ought to be;
A little fellow follows me;
I do not dare to go astray
For fear he'll go the self-same way.

I must not madly step aside,
Where pleasure's paths are smooth and wide,
And join in wine's red revelry--
A little fellow follows me.

1 cannot once escape his eyes:
Whatever he sees me do he tries--
Like me, he says, he's going to be;
The little chap who follows me.

He thinks that I am good and fine,
Believes in every word of mine;
The base in me he must not see,
The little chap who follows me.

[ must remember as I go,
Through summer's sun and winter's snow,
I'm building for the years to be,
A little fellow follow me.

Author Unknown

"Are You There"

I like to play close by my father's den,
Where he's at work, and every now and then
Ask: "Father, are you there?" He answers back:
"Yes, son." That time I broke my railroad track
All into bits, he stopped his work and came
And wiped my tears, and said, "Boy, boy! Be game!"
And then he showed me how to fix it right,
And I took both my arms and hugged him tight.

Once, when I' d asked him if he still was there,
He called me in and rumpled up my hair,
And said: "How much alike are you and I!
When I feel just as boys feel when they cry,
I call to Our Big Father, to make sure
That He is there, my childish dread to cure.
And always, just as I to you, ‘Yes, son';
Our Father calls, and all my fret is done!"

by Strickland Gillilan

The Little Child's Faith

It's a comfort to me in life's battle,
When the conflict seems all going wrong,
When I seem to lose every ambition
And the current of life grows too strong,
To think that the dusk ends the warfare,
That the worry is done for the night;
And the little child there, at the window,
Believes that his daddy's all right.

In the heat of the day and the hurry,
I'm prompted so often to pause,
While my mind strays away from the striving,
Away from the noise and applause.
The cheers may be meant for some other;
Perhaps I have lost in the fight;
But the little child waits at the window,
Believing his daddy's all right.

I can laugh at the downfalls and failure;
I can smile in the trial and pain;
I can feel that in spite of the errors,
The struggle has not been in vain.
If Fortune will only retain me
That comfort and solace at night,
When the little child waits at the window,
Believing his daddy's all right.

by Louis Edwin Thayer

Two Prayers

Last night my little boy confessed to me
Some childish wrong;
And kneeling at my knee
He prayed with tears--
“Dear God, make me a man
Like Daddy--wise and strong;
I know you can.”

Then while he slept
I knelt beside his bed,
Confessed my sins,
And prayed with low-bowed head.
“O God, make me a child
Like my child here--
Pure, guileless,
Trusting Thee with faith sincere.”

by Andrew Gillies

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