Old Brother Higgins built a shelf
For the family Bible to rest itself
Lest a sticky finger or grimy thumb
Might injure the delicate pages some.
And it rest there still with nary a blot
But the Higgins tribe are a careless lot.
His neighbors Miggins built a shelf
Come children, he said, and help yourself.
Now his Bible is old and tattered and torn
With some of the choices pages worn
Where children have fingered and thumbed and read
But of Miggin's children we've heard it said
Each carries a Bible in his head.
Author Unknown
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Grandpa used this poem in most of his talks when he was bishop.
ReplyDeleteJudy