 |
| My favorite picture of my daddy |
 |
| Me in college |
FROM MY DADDY’S BOOKS—THE THINGS I MISS
Daddy always loved to read and growing up there was
always a large bookcase that held my Daddy’s books. Mother kept that bookcase
filled with Daddy’s books until she passed away, then left them to me. One of
my favorite books of his was titled Poems
with Power to Strengthen the Soul. When I was in high school, I came across
a poem in that book titled The Thing I
Miss. That poem has stayed with me ever since.
In college, I borrowed this book (for several years)
and kept coming back to this poem. At that time I just liked the sound of the
first two verses and the rest just kind of flowed off me without great meaning.
But as I got older, all the words have wrapped around my heart and continue to
live there. As I look back at my life,
at the time of depression, pain, hurts caused by others and by me, sorrow and
losses, I have come to love this poem even more. And I would like to share it
with you.
THE THINGS I MISS
An easy thing, O Power
Divine,
To thank Thee for these gifts of Thine!
For summer's sunshine, winter's snow,
For hearts that kindle, thoughts that glow.
But when shall I attain to this,--
To thank Thee for the things I miss?
To thank Thee for these gifts of Thine!
For summer's sunshine, winter's snow,
For hearts that kindle, thoughts that glow.
But when shall I attain to this,--
To thank Thee for the things I miss?
For all young Fancy's
early gleams,
The dreamed-of joys that still are dreams,
Hopes unfulfilled, and pleasures known
Through others' fortunes, not my own,
And blessings seen that are not given,
And never will be, this side heaven.
The dreamed-of joys that still are dreams,
Hopes unfulfilled, and pleasures known
Through others' fortunes, not my own,
And blessings seen that are not given,
And never will be, this side heaven.
Had I too shared the joys I see,
Would there have been a heaven for me?
Could I have felt thy presence near,
Had I possessed what I held dear?
My deepest fortune, highest bliss,
Have grown perchance from things I miss.
Sometimes there comes an
hour of calm;
Grief turns to blessing, pain to balm;
A Power that works above my will
Still leads me onward, upward still.
And then my heart attains to this,--
To thank Thee for the things I miss.
Grief turns to blessing, pain to balm;
A Power that works above my will
Still leads me onward, upward still.
And then my heart attains to this,--
To thank Thee for the things I miss.
-- Thomas Wentworth Higginson
I
hope you enjoy this poem as much as I have through the years.
Do
you have a favorite poem or saying?
No comments:
Post a Comment