The Little Cripple
I am sitting by my window
In my lonely little room;
Every little boy seems happy,
While my life is filled with gloom.
Yonder see the children running,
Hear them laugh in childish play;
Like the butterflies and birdies,
Playing all the live-long day.
Once I ran as other children;
Now I'm but a cripple-boy.
As I watch them through my window,
How their games they do enjoy!
How I'd love to hear their footsteps
Coming to my open door!
It would make me feel as cheerful
As in happy days of yore.
Yet I'm thankful for dear mother,
Who so gently smooths my brow,
Tells me pleasant little stories
Of her childhood days, and how
She once wandered in the meadow,
With the cattle and the sheep,
Picking buttercups and daisies
Till the stars began to peep.
Then she tells me of the Savior,
How upon this earth he trod,
How he came to us from heaven--
Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Now his home is up in glory
With the happy angel band;
But he comes and blesses children
And protects them by his hand.
Then she kneels down by my bedside,
As the twilight shadows fall,
And we ask the Lord to kindly
Guide and keep us one and all;
Then he makes us very happy,
Gives us blessings rich and true,
And I know with all the children,
Jesus loves the cripples too.