by Richard John Scarr
(Brighton ,East Sussex, England.)
I was first introduced to this lovely piece: "Footprints In The Sand" author Mary Stevenson, when someone sent me a card when I was in my early twenties. That was some sixty years ago. I recently came across it again and found it just as beautiful. I have therefore taken the liberty of converting it into verse. I lay no claim to authorship, only the conversion. I only hope I have done this beautiful piece justice.
I dreamed I walked on Sandy Shores,
and I alone was there.
And stretching out before me.
My life lay stark and bare.
Every aspect on my being
was plainly there in sight.
Every good and bad deed.
Every wrong and right.
And there beside my footprints,
that followed far behind.
A second set ran parallel.
Keeping step with mine.
Those footprints gave me comfort,
as I traced them o'er the sand.
For in spite of my transgressions.
They remained there close at hand.
Then grief and sorrow filled my life,
and it seemed I must atone.
For the second footprints disappeared.
And I was left to walk alone.
I said: "Lord! When at my darkest.
Why didn't you remain?
To see me through my sorrow,
and to help me bear my pain."
"My dearest child," my Lord replied.
"Put aside your doubts and qualms.
And know I too shared your heartache.
And bore you close within my arms."
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