‘Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house not a creature was praying, not one in the house. Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care in hopes that Jesus would not come in there.

The children were dressing to crawl into bed, not once ever kneeling or bowing a head, and Mom in her rocker with baby on lap was watching the late show while I took a nap.

When out of the east there arose such a clatter, I sprang to my feet to see to the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but angels proclaiming that Jesus was here. With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray I knew in a moment this must be 'THE DAY’

The light of His face made me cover my head, it was Jesus returning just like He had said. And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth, I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

In the Book of Life which He held in His hand was written the names of every saved man. He spoke not a word as He searched for my name, when He said “it’s not here” my head hung in shame.

The people whose names had been written with love, he gathered to take to His Father above. With those who were ready He rose without sound while all the rest were left standing around.

I fell to my knees, but it was too late. I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate. I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight, Oh, if only I had been ready on this holy night.

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear. The coming of Jesus is drawing near. There’s only one life and at the last call we’ll find that the Bible was true - after all!

--Bethany Farms, Carroilton

The pastor called the other day, when the rain was lashin’ doon, I’d kept the weans inside the hoose for fear that they might droon. They were runnin’ daft aboot the place an’ drivin me up the wall, ah wiz yellin at them “will you’s make less noise.” When the Pastor came to call.

He stood in the rain at the doorstep lookin’ just like a drookit hen and the hoose wiz like a midden, it wiz only half past ten! But I said hullo an asket him in. He squelched intae the hall and ma bran new carpet got soakin wet, when the Pastor came to call.

The wean had loast her dummy and wiz greeting to be fed, and twins came rattlin’ doon the stair on a tea tray for a sled, they banged right intae the Pastor which he didnae like ata, for they just aboot knocked him fleein, the day he came to call!!

Then his eyes rolled up to the ceilin’ as he clasped his hands in prayer when the bairn ran over his toes wi’ her trike as he stood at the fit o’ the stair, he picked her up and gave her a kiss, the poor wee wean started tae bawl which jus aboot deafened the Pastor, the day he came to call.

I took him intae the livin’ room where he stepped on lassie’s tail, the poor dug lowped a fit in the air and let oot a terrible wail, then sank her teeth in the Pastor’s leg, ah’ve got tae laugh when I recall the jig he danced that day, when the Pastor came to call.

That’s when he turned and limped back oot an his eyes had a kin-oh-a-glare, but the twins had left a roller skate lyin’ jist at the fit o’ the stair, the pastor pit his fit in it and shot right oot through the hall. He never even got to sayin’ bye and he's never been back to call.

Annon