A Country Church is a wondrus thing,

Like a tree grown strong or a bird on wing.

Reaching up high, as a tree is high;

Knowing a freedom, as the birds that fly.

To a country Church they travel far,

For God is there whenever they are.

Prayers said to Him have room to grow

Like the grass or flowers or streams that flow.

A walk to a door that opens wide,

Assured of a welcome when once inside.

No ornate windows or fine masonary;

Just a simple Church that God can see.

Thinking of others to brighten their way,

Like sun coming through on the darkest day.

Surely when He asks for His great roll call

The country Church will be first of all!

Iva May Maudlin

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