I was browsing through the books At a second hand store,
when I found An old Bible, tattered and worn.
The pages were yellow, the binding was scored,
The cover was dusty, faded and torn.
It must have been a hundred years old,
Or perhaps even more.
Well, I bought that old Bible,
From that second hand store.
I went back to my home,
Sat down in my chair,
And opened the old Bible,
With delicate care.
On the inside cover were the faded words,
"To momma, with love from your son".
And I thought of the joy that she must have felt,
To receive such a gift as this one.
As I thumbed through the pages I found scriptures marked,
Underlined so carefully.
And I thought of the comfort Those scriptures had brought,
To those who owned this Bible before me.
The twenty third Psalm was underlined,
And the Beatitudes of Matthew five.
And I could tell where tear drops Had stained the scripture,
That told how Jesus had suffered and died.
And I could almost feel the joy and thrill,
In the hand that marked the scripture in red,
That told how the angels had opened the tomb,
And how Jesus arose from the dead.
I found John 3:16 was underlined,
And Romans 6:23,
And John 14:6, where Jesus said,
"No man cometh unto the Father, but by Me".
As I held that old Bible That I'd bought for one dollar,
I knew it's immeasurable worth.
Not only was it someone's most prized possession,
It was the most important book on earth.
I wondered how many tear drops Had stained it's pages,
In salvation so pure and free, I wondered How many hearts and souls it had touched,
Before it found its way to me.
Now it stands on my bookshelf,
A prized possession again,
A symbol of God's love and sacrifice,
His written word to all men.
