The Vineyard Waits

(To Frances, my missionary daughter)

My dear, you take with you the golden seed

Of truth. Your vineyard is the waiting world.

Plant well that it may grow and fill the need

For harvest and drouth-barren fields be pearled

With dew from Heaven. May your soul be filled

With love for all God's children, and your voice

Be lifted that the tempests may be stilled

And seeking hearts, hearing His call, rejoice.

What joy to see your plantings bright with flower!

May little children love you ... and the old ...

Garner the beauty from each well-spent hour

Leading the meek to peace within His fold.

Chaste-sweet and humble, your faith shining-clear--

God's arm is long to reach to you, my dear.